Solitude in White
by Merith
Summary: completed Heero finds what loosing his hard-won solitude is worth one snowy day after rescuing an injured Duo. Not the typical blanket fic.
1. Part I

Solitude in White 

by Merith

  


Pairings: 1+2   
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, language, angst, mild Heero OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

A/N: A little something I threw together to try and enter into a blanket fic contest, but I didn't finish it in time. Ah well, such is life, and deadlines are deadlines. In actually, I didn't really start to write this story to enter the contest as much as to prove a point - a blanket fic can be written without resorting to making your characters have wild monkey sex in the cold. Though you will find some pretty sensual stuff in here, it's all fairly clean.

  


Thanks and all that: Of course this wouldn't have been possible with the help of my friend Alba - Thanks hon, I wooove you! And a very special thanks to Arithion for the last minute beta and suggestions. Also, a nudge to CaseyValhalla for letting me bounce a couple of things off her.

  


~

  


Part I:

  


Solitude was all I had wanted. Why did it seem to be too much to ask for? How could such a simple thing be so hard to achieve?

  


I let out a slow breath, no longer noticing how the moisture hung in the air as I shifted minutely on my skis. Through the still falling snow, I could make out a black vehicle resting about twenty feet from the road, tail end broadside against the tree. A half-hour on skis, in the cold, and the knowledge no one else had heard the crash drove home the certainty my solitude had come to an abrupt end. The once permanent glare, so well known to those who knew me, settled itself in place while I stared at the scene. 

  


Of all the roads in this God forsaken country, why did some idiot have to crash on mine? A quick glance at the sky told me I needed to get moving, else the car's occupants and me to become icicles.

  


The ski poles planted, I shoved off and allowed the skis to glide over the field's uneven surface, coming to a stop by the car's passenger side. I couldn't tell its make or model, only that it was black and seemed to be some sort of older car. Brushing away the snow and frost from the window, I peered inside, trying to find anyone. With the snow nearly a foot thick on the window surfaces, the car's interior was too dim to see. But I was able to make out one occupant. That would make my next move easier.

  


The door proved to be locked, causing me to ski around the wreck to the driver's side. 

  


Upon closer inspection, the only explanation I could find capable of causing such an accident would be a patch of ice on the road. This part of the road was flat and narrow, and if it spun out on a patch of ice, it was possible that it could have crashed. It really was ironic though. The idiotic driver managed to hit the only tree along a good ten-mile stretch of road. I could only hope the damage to the Elm would be minimal, enabling it to survive the winter.

  


Pausing at the other door, I bit off a curse. The spin had caused the car to skim down the driver's side against the tree, thereby sealing the door shut. I'd have to go in through the passenger's side after all. I scrapped away the snow and ice from the window, and made out the top of a head resting against it. Taking a chance, I rapped on the window hoping I could wake the driver and have him? her? unlock the door. The head moved, but the person didn't wake. I tried again using the end of a ski pole.

  


The head rolled back, and I could just make out a pair of eyes opening. Icy daggers stabbed somewhere deep as I spotted blood smeared over the face. There appeared to be a lot of it and, though knowing from experience head wounds bled a lot, it did little to relieve my fear. Pulling myself together, I shouted, "Unlock the other door so I can get you out." And gestured to the other side of the car. The eyes closed and I thought I saw a nod. 

  


Hurrying around the car, I didn't watch the driver's attempt at fulfilling my request. But when I was once again on the passenger's side, the door was unlocked. Standing the poles out of the way, I unlatched my boots and kicked them out of their couplings, unbuckling the waist restraint to my backpack as I went. My hope was the driver would be coherent; I wasn't relishing carrying anyone through the snow.

  


The driver was no longer awake. The head injury had reopened with blood running thickly from the brow cut. Working automatically as my training kicked in, I pulled the firstaid kit from my bag, and set out what I'd need. Cleanup wasn't my major concern; stanching the blood was. Absently I noted the driver was male, and his injury needed stitches. Only I didn't have the tools in this kit, and exposed as we were, I knew this wasn't the place even if sutures were available.

  


"Hey," I spoke gently, but loud. "Can you hear me? Can you wake up?" My hands busied themselves with the gauze and tape. The driver didn't stir. A quick visual assessment didn't show any obvious injuries, and by now my hands had begun to tingle. I had removed my gloves and in these temps, frostbite didn't take long. 

A snort of resignation, I stood and closed the car door, keeping the driver protected from the wind. As though I knew, somehow, it would be needed, I pulled the compact sleeping bag and length of rope from the pack. My movements were quick and efficient; the bag lay open with the rope uncoiled nearby, waiting for its use.

  


Less than fifteen minutes had passed from when I'd spotted the wreck, and I was already heading back to the farmhouse, dragging my patient cum passenger behind. The driver lay safely trussed up in the bag, the rope in tight loops at his feet, his chest and his head with its ends tied to the links on the pack's waist strap. 

  


Other than occasional pleasure jaunts, I hadn't cross-country skied in a long time. And in the four months I'd been living on the South Dakota farmhouse, I hadn't had the need to venture out on skis until this morning. Years of regimented physical conditioning gave me the strength to get us both to my temporary residence. The slender appearance of the driver was deceptive, his weight made itself known, and the sleeping bag was not conducive to a smooth tow over the snow. Several times on the return trip I had to stop and clear a small pile off the bag; if the man ensconced inside was aware, he never made a sound.

  


Once at the farmhouse, I released the catch to my pack, dropping it to the ground. Entering the back-porch, I kicked off my skis, and leaned them with their poles against the far wall. Legs feeling like lead, I stumbled back to the makeshift travois, and, after untying the rope, I took a deep breath, preparing to lift my patient. Interesting how he didn't seem as heavy carrying his deadweight in my arms as he had while carting him over the snow. Pushing aside thoughts on physics and mass displacement, I went quickly through the house to the room I'd been using during my stay. 

Any other time and no one would have gained entry to my personal room; I never allowed it. But the other two bedrooms had been closed off, winterized, and I knew the beds weren't even made. As soon as the driver was taken care of, I would prepare one of the others for his use, and reclaim my own. Though my privacy was paramount to me, I do value life more.

  


It took fourteen stitches to close the gash through his brow and I pondered on adding another but worried it was too close to his eye; while I was more than adequate in the field, I lacked the experience needed for more delicate work. I decided to wait and see if the butterflies would keep it closed enough to heal. After clearing away the bloodied bandages, I sat back to stare at my unexpected guest.

  


He didn't wake the entire time I worked on him, first stripping him of his boots and then his outer garments. He stirred briefly when I bathed the blood from his face and neck, verifying my initial thought he carried no other wounds. His hair did surprise me. No male of my acquaintance had hair as long or in the careful plait he wore his. And while I didn't remove any other clothing, I had to push his shirt out of the way to do a quick abdominal check; there didn't appear to be any internal injuries that I could tell, just some mild bruising from the seatbelt. 

  


I'd changed into more comfortable clothing and exchanged my boots for moccasins, and now was perched on the edge of my bed. The driver looked familiar, I just couldn't place from where. It frustrated me and I wished once again the phone lines hadn't gone down the day before. In the remote locations of South Dakota, during heavy snows, the phone lines were the first to die; then the electricity. The house was equipped to handle loss of modernization with the exception of communication lines. Right now I wanted my internet resources more than I had during my entire isolation.

  


Suddenly I thought of something, and carefully I rolled the driver on one side to slip a free hand into his back pocket. Normally not a snoop, in my line of work, suspicion demanded action and knowing who he was required identification. The thin wallet contained little; a driver's license, one Visa card, an address scribbled in pen on notebook paper and a little over two hundred in assorted bills. I was only interested in the license.

  


It was issued out of North Carolina in a small town close to Raleigh, if my geography wasn't mistaken. After reading his name, I could feel my eyebrows rise in surprise and looked once again at my guest. He would have to confirm what I deduced, and if true, my patient was somewhat of a minor celebrity. If true, it created additional questions as to what he was doing so far north at this time of year.

  


Pulling the blankets up and tucking them around him, I left secure in the knowledge he wasn't going to die, bleed all over my pillow, or slip into shock. 

  


My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since just after waking to my guest's car striking the tree. The hour had still been dark, with daylight hours off; I had debated setting out immediately or waiting for light. While I had a rough idea of where the accident might have taken place, I didn't relish the idea of traipsing through a half dozen fields covered in three feet or more of snow in the dark. I had settled on making myself ready with a decent breakfast and packing my backpack. 

  


Certain my guest would wake hungry, I pulled out the pot of soup I'd made the day before and set it on the stove to heat. Mentally I ran through a task list: lunch, fix room, check patient, check generator, start dinner. It was only noon and my body was tired; I would have liked to add a nap to the list, but didn't think I'd get one. 

  


Lunch out of the way, I stopped in briefly to see if the man had woken or seemed in distress in any way. It didn't appear so. In fact, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say distress was the last thing he was in; sprawled as he was over my bed. The blankets he'd kicked mostly off, and his untucked shirt rode high up one side. One leg jutted out of the tangle of covers, its foot dangled over the edge and one arm draped over his face, covering his eyes. I felt my lips twist into an uncomfortable smile but instead of thinking on its meaning, I pulled down the blinds and turned out the bedside light, casting the room in darkness before leaving.

  


The second bedroom took longer than anticipated to clean and prepare. Though in truth it had taken me nearly as long to decide which room to let him use. Making decisions instantly was usually as automatic as breathing, but since the incident, I found myself weighing options I never would have before. In this case, efficiency and practicality offset my need for privacy. As stated, the farmhouse contained three bedrooms; two were in the main house, side by side down a short hallway from the living room. The third room was off to the side of the back porch, a late addition to the original farmhouse. I dreaded even thinking about heating that room, let alone keeping it habitable. But the other room… it was so close, too close. 

  


Practicality won. The man had already invaded my privacy and sundered my solitude; another day or two wouldn't hurt. Besides, I reasoned with myself, he might want his peace and quiet as well.

  


I left the door open to assist in heating, and went to wash up in the bathroom. Staring at the mirror, I almost forgot who I was; this stranger in the reflection was not the man I used to see but some weak facsimile. The features were the same, high narrow cheekbones, strong jaw line even the wide brow and deep-set eyes, but instead of the determined ambitious man I once was, a reflective almost hesitant shell of him glared back at me. 

  


Somewhere the faint tinkle of laughter sounded.

_~ "You're always so serious, Agent Yuy. How come you never laugh? Why don't you smile more?"_

  


_"My job is a serious one. Laughter and smiles are not part of fulfilling that duty."_

  


_"Oh foo. Duty be damned, Agent Yuy. You're still a person, and as such laughter and smiles are a part of life."_

_"Some other time, Miss Relena. I believe if you don't hurry, you'll be late. Congress convenes in forty-five minutes."_

  


___"You are my new mission, agent. I will make you laugh and smile more, I swear it." ~_

  


I found myself breathing hard, clutching the edge of the sink, my head swirling in a gray fog with black dots dancing before my eyes. Forcing my respiration to slow, I slid to the floor to wait until the attack passed. It had been several weeks since the last one; I could only credit the arrival of my guest for its return.

  


As if my thoughts were the catalyst, I heard movement across the hall coming from the room he occupied, and rose quickly. Opening the door, I could see the man had sat up and seemed to be looking around, trying to see in the dark.

  


"Let me lift a blind, and you'll be able to see," I commented padding over the floor to the window. He let out a sharp cry as the near blinding sunlight poured into the room and I hurried to his side. His hands were over his eyes, and his knees drawn up to his chest. "Are you all right? You need me to close the blind?"

  


He shuddered and shook his head slightly. "No. No, it'll be okay," he said with a shaky breath. "Just a little sudden, ya'no." His voice was smooth, soft and low, almost a baritone and I cocked my head puzzled wondering how that slight body could produce such a deep voice. His appearance was deceiving. He sighed and dropped his hands slowly. "If you don't mind, where the hell am I? And how'd I get here?" He peered at me, his expression confused and questioning.

  


I lowered myself into a squat, keeping at eye level before replying. "Here. That's a good question. Geographically, you are in north central South Dakota, about twenty miles from the border. Physically, you are in my bed, in a farmhouse in the middle of the badland prairie – roughly ten miles from Grennell." He nodded slowly, trying to follow my words. "As for how, well, I brought you." I looked at him closely, wondering if he remembered. "You were in an accident earlier this morning."

  


He blinked and dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. "South Dakota, huh." It seemed more a statement than question and I let it pass.

  


When he didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, I rose saying, "I'll bring you some soup and something to drink. You've had a shock and a nasty blow to the head, so don't try to think too much." He raised his head and gave me a grateful look. At the door, I paused. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Don't try to move until I return, all right? I don't know what other injuries you might have sustained." 

  


"I-I'll wait here," he mumbled, already sliding back down under the blankets.

  


I watched him another minute more; he had seemed dazed though not overly so. More tired than I would have expected, but then, people handled stress and shock differently and sleep was one of the body's natural defenses to fight off both. Even with a head injury, I figured he could use the sleep, and if there had been a danger from a concussion, he would have succumbed long before I found him. I left the door open. 

  


The man appeared a little more aware when I returned with a tray of soup, bread, water and orange juice. His eyes lit up seeing the food and I had to smile. "Hungry?" I asked, setting down the tray to turn on the bedside lamp.

  


His laugh, though short, was rich and again I wondered how such deep sounds could come from such a small person. "Hunger and I are well aquatinted friends, and he's decided to make his presence well known today." The man had already sat up, propping himself against the headboard, watching the tray as I shifted it around to set on his lap. "It looks good. Did your wife make this?" His eyes never left the bowl.

  


"I'm not married," I said in reply.

  


He paused with the juice glass to his lips to look at me over its rim. Swallowing, he lowered the glass and smiled ruefully. "I'm being pretty rude here, and I apologize." He rubbed his hand on the bedspread and held it out to me. "Duo Maxwell, and you are?" he asked, with his expression inquisitive and his eyes bright.

  


I gave him an almost perfunctory handshake, keeping the touch brief, before introducing myself. "Heero Yuy."

  


A grin replaced the smile as his eyes traveled over my appearance. "Well, Heero Yuy, I thank you, for this meal, the help, and for sharing your bed." Alarm and surprise warmed my face and he gave a short laugh. "I don't remember much of the accident, but it must have been a bitch. So, thanks a bunch, pal, for digging me out and bringing me here." His eyes went back to the tray and he shoved half the slice of bread in his mouth. His eyes slid closed and he smiled around the bite.

  


I could only shake my head. The chair I'd used earlier was far away enough to not be imposing, yet close enough to the bed for me to perch on and watch him. I settled myself on the edge. His manner of eating was as variant and lively as his facial expressions. Other than a "this is great!", he hadn't said a word, and his lunch disappeared. Seeing he had drunk the last of the soup, I asked with some amusement, "Are you still hungry? Do you want more?"

  


Another short laugh. "Ah, no, man. I was full a bit ago, but it was so good I couldn't put it down." He peered at his bowl as though more soup would have manifested itself before looking up at me. "You made it? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, that's the best damned soup I've ever had." 

  


"Yes, I did. I don't like canned foods generally."

  


He gave me a startled look before a slow smile slid over his face. "You'll have to give me lessons or the recipe then, Heero Yuy, 'cause I don't think I'll be able to eat canned soup again." 

  


"I'll write it down for you," I said quietly, and he laughed again. I think I could get used to hearing that laugh; its richness and sincerity filled the room and created its own warmth.

  


"You are something, Heero Yuy." His eyes tracked me as I rose and crossed the room to the dresser. I picked up his wallet and keys and turned back to him.

  


"I put your personal things here, and your coat and boots are in the living room." I moved back to the bedside, and sat his things on the end table. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to." My eyes locked with his. "In fact, you'll be here for a couple of days at least. With all the snow and more to come, the roads won't be cleared until Thursday or Friday. And if they get the phone lines working before then, you wouldn't be able to get a truck out here to pull out your car anyway." I'd said the last with a little regretful smile, trying to soften whatever blow my words might have given.

  


He sat thoughtful for a moment before giving a little shake. "Guess there's no sense crying about it, then." He turned away from me, staring off into middle distance. Not looking at me, he asked quietly, "I take it cell phones are useless as well?"

  


"This time of year, in this weather, I'm expecting the electricity to drop soon."

  


My guest drew in a deep breath and let it out. "Well, shit. Out of the frying pan and into the fire." He tugged on his braid reflexively and I eyed his action closely. Blinking, he seemed pull himself out of his thoughts. The smile he aimed at me didn't carry the same genuine feel as those before. "I'm being rude again, Heero Yuy. I'm positive me being around imposing on you isn't what you wanted either. I'll try to stay out of your way."

  


"Heero," I said, keeping my voice low.

  


His eyes met mine. "Huh?"

  


I shifted and sat on the chair again as I answered, "You keep referring to me with both my first and last names. I am either Heero, or Mr. Yuy. I do not care for your use of Heero Yuy." 

  


At least his grin was sincerely chagrined. "Alright, pal, it's a deal. I'll call you Heero, and you call me Duo."

  


I arched an eyebrow at him, and tapped his wallet thoughtfully. "David Ulysses Oscar Maxwell?"

  


He looked away, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Yeah, Duo for short."

  


"What kind of parents would encumber a child with a mouthful like that?"

  


"Sadistic ones, let me tell you," he grinned, good humor restored.

  


His comment startled a laugh out of me, and I hesitated a moment before asking, "Why those names? Pardon me for sounding rude, but ... they're rather ... odd, aren't they?"

  


Duo's laugh broke off into a fit of coughing. He winced, stifling the pain as he answered, "Well, David is after David in the Bible, ya' know, as in David and Goliath." Grinning ruefully, he tossed in, "Mom and dad thought I'd do great things in this world." I gave him a nod in return. "Ulysses 'cause Dad was a history buff and loved the Civil War era, and Oscar for Oscar Wilde - mom was crazy about his plays." Shrugging deprecatingly, he added, "A lot to live up to, but shit, someone has to do it."

  


If the story of his given names was true, it was a lot to burden a child with, and I wondered for a moment what his childhood had been like. Brushing the thought off, I asked solicitously, "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

  


He gave the question serious thought, and I could see movement as he rolled his shoulders, and tested muscles. Pursing his lips, he turned to me with a faint frown, and touched his brow lightly. "Other than some bruising on my chest and one heck of a headache, I can't say I'm in any pain. Not really." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Hell, it's not even as bad as some of the clips I've taken in practice runs."

  


"Ah!" I cried out softly. "I thought so." 

  


"What?" He'd jumped in surprise at my exclamation.

  


"You are Duo Maxwell, the Nascar car driver," I announced in more normal tones.

  


Duo blinked at me and gave another short laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am him." His hand was still at his brow, fingering the sutures carefully. "Hey listen, do you have a mirror or something? I'd like to check this out." 

  


I stood, and moved the tray to the end of the bed. "I'll help you up and to the restroom across the hall. I'd feel a lot better if you checked yourself out to make sure you weren't injured elsewhere." I couldn't help the slight quiver. 

  


"All right, sure man. I could use the john." He didn't seem to notice my unease, and gingerly moved his legs off the bed. I hovered, ready to lend a hand, but knew from my own experiences I would rather try on my own without assistance than have help thrust upon me. He steadied himself on the edge of the mattress, his hands to either side, and rose slowly, testing his weight on his legs. As he straightened, he let out a hissing breath. "Damn, must have knocked my knee hard." He leaned over, one hand on the nightstand, holding part of his weight off the leg.

  


"Here," I offered, coming to stand on the weakened side and bending slightly to catch him under his shoulder. "Let me take most of the weight, and we'll work on relaxing the knee later."

  


His arm clung to my shoulder and he flashed me a thankful grin. "Thanks again, pal." We had taken a couple slow measuring steps, both of us adjusting to our height difference. I could tell he continued to test his leg, but I didn't say anything. It seemed he didn't care for being dependent either. "So, you some kind of doctor, Heero Yuy?"

  


"No," I replied shortly.

  


We'd reached the bathroom, and I was in the process of transferring my support to the sink counter when he looked in the mirror. "Shit! Will you look at that!" he exclaimed. I looked at his reflection, wondering what upset him. His fingers ghosted over the stitches and the puffy, darkening skin under his eye. "I look like Frankenstein!"

  


Standing close without touching, I turned from his reflection to look at his face. Narrowing my eyes critically, I inspected the injury. "No," I said thoughtfully, "Not exactly Frankenstein. I left out the bolts."

  


He let out a startled bark of laughter and smiled at me. "So, Heero, what are you that you can sew me up better than my own doc?"

  


I shook my head. "Not a doctor. Just someone who knows something about field first aid." Now that he was in more light, I could see splotches of blood in his hair, and the places on his skin I had missed. He would need a shower.

  


"A man of mystery, Heero?" The timbre of his voice changed, deep and soft, it now held an almost seductive tone. I felt one of Duo's hands rest lightly on my shoulder, and I suddenly realized how close we were, how close I'd drawn to him while inspecting his eye. I noticed he was watching my face - my expression and I closed it off. I hadn't lost all of my training.

  


"No mystery," I replied easily, taking a step back while keeping a hand on his waist in case he needed the support. "You should probably take a shower and change clothes. There's blood in your hair. I couldn't clean all of it earlier." At the door, I gestured to the small cupboard over the toilet. "There are plenty of towels and washcloths in there, and feel free to use the soap and shampoo." My words were coming out disjointed, as though I was nervous. "I'll find you something to change into." My eyes ran over his frame again. "Shirts shouldn't be a problem. But I think sweatpants will have to work. I don't think I've a pair of jeans that will fit you." 

  


"Yeah, sure, man," he said in that same seductive tone. I took one last look at him before closing the door, and he gave me a crooked grin. Somehow he knew, his the knowledge defined in his expression. I leaned my forehead against the closed door and drew a steadying breath. Just as I moved away, I heard him say, "Be prepared, Heero Yuy. I intend to know you."

  


My heart hammered in my chest and I was annoyed. Words, arrogant words at that, from a stranger no less, and I started acting like a schoolboy. Irritated, I entered my room and cleared away his lunch things. I'd listened to the shower as I straightened the bed and searched for clothing to fit him, and wasn't surprised to hear him singing. Since he'd awakened, I'd come to the realization this man was not the peace and quiet kind. And while I sort of expected singing in the shower, the song caused me to pause in the hallway to listen. His song was an old, Irish ballad.

  


_~ "Dance with me, Agent Yuy."_

  


_"I cannot, Miss Relena. I have to keep watch."_

  


_"Silly, nothing's going to happen. You need to relax and enjoy life."_

_"I have a duty, Miss Relena. A party is a good place for dissidents to cause mayhem. Dancing with you will take my focus from my duty."_

  


_"Is that why you never look at me? Do I distract you?"_

  


_"Yes, and rarely."_

  


___"You make me laugh, Agent Yuy. But I still want you to dance with me. Please? The song is almost over, so you won't be pulled away from your duty for long."_

  


_"For a minute then, Miss Relena, and no more."_

  


_"You dance perfectly, Agent Yuy. *…the road is long, and I am weary. You have gone, gone away. So, rest now my sweet darling, I will join you one day. *"_

  


_____"You sing well, Miss Relena."_

__

___"Thank you for the dance, agent. I think I'll sit the next one out." ~_

__

__Damn. Two in one day. I was regressing. Standing in the hallway, clutching the shirt, sweatpants and sweater I'd picked out, I felt an inexplicable rage wash over me. Rationally I knew none of this was the man's fault. But with his coming, with his destroying my solitude, the barriers I had erected to keep those memories at bay were crumbling fast. 

__

__I didn't want this. I didn't want to remember. I wanted it out of my mind and out of my heart. I'd resigned myself to not be the man I had been, and was quietly working on who I would be once my solitude was over. I didn't need distractions in any form, and my unexpected guest was proving to be more than just a mild distraction. I was still attempting to gain control over my wanton emotions when Duo walked out of the bathroom.

__

__My eyes drifted over his wet form, a towel knotted about his hips. His hair twisted in another towel made a strange turban of terrycloth and chestnut silk. He had stopped when he spotted me, one hand braced on the doorframe, the other holding his dirty clothes. An easy smile came, genuine and friendly, and he took an unsteady step forward.

__

__"I've moved your things to this room," I said harshly, turning away from him. His step faltered and his eyes grew wide. I reminded myself again that it wasn't his fault. "I'll wash your clothes while the electricity still runs," I added in a softer tone, moving forward. 

__

__He remained silent while I exchanged clothing bundles and only nodded as I showed him where'd I'd placed his personal items. He didn't move until after I'd left, heading for the washer on the back porch. I had a few odds and ends needing to be washed and stayed out in the cold for as long as I dared. I called upon my lost control and tied it in place once again, hoping it would stay put. I wished once more the phone lines hadn't gone down, and I could call Wufei. I needed a friend, and he understood me more than anyone else did.

__

__Duo stood in the doorway to his room, watching for me to make an appearance. Seeing those vibrant eyes now wary and cautious, I felt the brush of guilt before I dismissed it. While I owed this man nothing, neither did he deserve my anger; I vowed I would not snap out at him again unless he did deserve it. 

__

__Stopping a short distance from him, I asked, "Would you rather lay down and rest some more, or sit in the living room? I need to check the generator and start dinner, but want to make sure you're settled first."

__

__He gave me a tentative smile. "I'm not particularly tired, so the living room?" He made it sound more as a question than a statement.

__

__"Living room it is," I replied softly. "Do you think you can manage on your own?"

__

__Nodding, he answered more assuredly, "As long as there's something to hold onto. The leg's a little weak and the knee wants to collapse on me in open spaces."

__

__I winced knowing he would have to have crossed from the door to the bed, or even the dresser, without anything to hold onto. I didn't even want to think about how he could have gotten himself dressed. When he required it, I helped him to the couch, and brought a pillow to put under his wrenched knee. It didn't look swollen, but I thought since I was outside anyway, I'd put together a bag of packed snow to ice it down. I left him to settle and brought back a small bottle of pain relievers and a glass of water. 

__

__He gave me a grateful smile and swallowed two immediately. Handing him an afghan from off the back of the recliner I usually used, I saw the thin white line from around his lips dissipate. I should have given him aspirin during lunch. I added being more considerate to my guest to the list in my head.

__

__"I'm going outside now. Is there anything I can bring you? Anything you need?"

__

__Duo's glance swept the room and he turned to me with a puzzled look. "You don't have a television?"

__

__"No," I replied looking around as though one might spring up out of no where. "I've never been in the habit of watching, and as I understand it, the reception here is terrible, so it isn't worth bothering." At his look of disappointment, I threw in, "There are many books, and you're welcome to use the stereo."

__

__With his eyes closed, he bit his lower lip and I could only imagine what he was thinking. "Could you bring me something to read? I don't care what. I have a feeling I might fall asleep before I get too far into it anyway." 

__

__I nodded and went to the bookcase. Most of the books were of my own personal collection; from the classics to modern fiction, it held all manner and nature of the written word. Keeping in mind the man's occupation and what I'd gathered from his personality, I pulled out four or five volumes for him to decide. If the books surprised him, he didn't show it, but after he looked them over, his gaze held mine – his expression blank and eyes thoughtful. 

  
  



	2. Part II

Solitude in White 

by Merith

Pairings: 1+2   
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, language, angst, mild Heero OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

A/N: A little something I threw together to try and enter into a blanket fic contest, but I didn't finish it in time. Ah well, such is life, and deadlines are deadlines. In actually, I didn't really start to write this story to enter the contest as much as to prove a point - a blanket fic can be written without resorting to making your characters have wild monkey sex in the cold. Though you will find some pretty sensual stuff in here, it's all fairly clean.

Thanks and all that: Of course this wouldn't have been possible with the help of my friend Alba - Thanks hon, I wooove you! And a very special thanks to Arithion for the last minute beta and suggestions. Also, a nudge to CaseyValhalla for letting me bounce a couple of things off her.

~

Part II:

__

__The generator maintenance took very little time. Almost daily I found myself out in the shed, priming the old Honda Gen 2.4, and obsessively checking it's diesel supply. The first month I'd stayed there, a tornado-like wind blew through the county, ripping out power lines, and plunging most of the area in the dark. I'd been without electricity for three days because I didn't make sure the generator tank and its backup, was filled.

__

__Stopping to stuff snow into the plastic bag I'd pulled from my pocket, I watched the sky darken. The temperature had dropped again, and the wind was picking up. I wondered about making a fire, and went to the wood lot for an armload of logs. There should be enough off the back porch to burn tonight, dry and ready, but proficiency called for the precaution. On the back porch, I stacked the logs, and brushed the snow and dirt from my coat, noticing the washer had finished its last cycle. 

__

__An armload of logs, the bag of snow, a couple of wrapped, frozen chicken breast and I made our way into the kitchen. I'd left my boots and coat on the porch, and grimaced when my sock clad foot stepped on a clump of snow. Scowling in annoyance, I tossed the chicken and snow on the butcher-block. A low strain of music wafted across the room, and I looked up surprised. Duo was playing one of my Straus CDs.

__

__The kitchen, dining room and living area was in actuality one large room, divided only by its usual accompanied furnishings. The butcher block separated the kitchen from the dining room, just as the couch separated the dining room from the living space. I could see Duo's towel turbaned head over the top of the couch; he appeared to be reading.

__

__Careful to not track dirt across the floor, I padded around the table to the fireplace. Duo looked over at me smiling. I nodded in return, and set about making a fire. The mechanics of fire building was another one of those long forgotten techniques I'd learned young, and only discovered again while staying at the farmhouse. The thought hovered that maybe the man I was supposed to be was someone who knew the forgotten lessons from my training. I shook it off, and struck the match.

__

__"If I didn't know better, I'd think Winner set all this up for me to take that vacation he's been threatening me with for months."

__

__I looked over my shoulder to see Duo grinning affably. The book he'd been reading he held loosely in one hand and a finger of the other glided over his brow.

__

__"Do they bother you?" I nodded my chin toward his head.

__

__He lowered his hand and flushed lightly. "Not really. It's a bit painful, but nothing I can't handle." He shrugged. "It just feels strange. I've never needed stitches before."

__

__"I'll put some salve on it. It has some numbing properties." I frowned at him and added, "You should try to keep from touching it. Though your hands might appear clean, you could infect the sutures." I stood, and watched the flames catch and burn over the kindling and small wood pieces. Certain the fire wouldn't die while I was gone, I went to my room to change socks and put on my moccasins. 

__

__A moc in one hand, it dawned on me I hadn't supplied Duo with either socks or shoe-wear of any sort. Giving into a growl of annoyance, I shoved my foot inside and reopened my drawer. A stop in the bathroom to wash and less than a minute later, I sat on the couch by his side, not saying a word. He looked with surprise at the socks and my old pair of moccasins, but gave me a grin showing his appreciation. 

__

__"I brought the salve," I said, holding the small blue jar. He nodded and sat forward, presenting his injured eye to me. "It shouldn't sting, but let me know if it does." I'd opened the jar, and used one of the cotton swabs. Just before I started to apply it, I hesitated and drew back. "You're not allergic to anything are you? Witch hazel? Chickweed? Aloe? Thyme? Lavender? Comfy?"

__

__Duo blinked several times and looked from the jar to my face. "You an herbalist, Heero?"

__

__A derisive snort made its way out before I could stop it. "Not especially. But there are some natural remedies which work better than modern medicine." I held up the jar. "This being one of them. It's a salve a friend of mine makes, but it has several properties to reduce pain, generate skin growth, and prevent infection. It's not a miracle cure, and will only work correctly if you're not allergic to anything it contains."

__

__"Well, if I'm allergic, I'm not aware of it. So, do your best, Heero Yuy. I've trusted you this far." He grinned and turned his eye to me again.

__

__I grunted and touched the swab to his broken eyebrow gently, watching his reaction. Other than a slight jump on the first touch, he held still and seemed to lean into my ministrations. "I used smaller stitches closer together to minimize scarring. Keep it clean and dry, and apply aloe or vitamin E oil to keep the skin supple." 

"Not sure if I'd care if it scarred." His breath blew softly over my wrist. "Might add to a more roguish look, eh, Heero?" Though my eyes never moved from my task, I could tell he was grinning again.

"If you say so. I'm more in the habit of preventing them, if I can help it." I finished dabbing the salve, and was satisfied to note that last stitch hadn't been needed. I shifted my gaze to discover Duo had been watching. Feeling the heat climb up my neck, I froze. He was so close. Bare inches separated us.

"You..." he whispered. Clearing his throat, he leaned back slightly. "Thank you, Heero." His eyes never left mine, but with the added distance he created, I felt I could breath easier.

The moment passed, and I stood screwing the lid back on the jar. "I'll go start dinner now," I said, my voice wooden to my own ears. I hadn't taken two steps when Duo called me back.

"Hey, I hate to keep imposing on ya like this, but do you have a brush I can use? I need to do something with this mop before it dries completely." I turned around. He wasn't looking at me but rather his hands as they held the book.

"I have a comb, no brush. Will that work?"

He glanced up and grinned. "Yeah, sure man. Thanks a lot, Heero. I really do appreciate it."

I returned the jar to its place, and picked up my comb. It was my comb. Duo needed to use something, but it was mine. I didn't have a spare. I stared at the teeth, even and smooth, not one out of place, not one hair caught in it. I wondered at what its condition would be like after Duo used it on all that hair. 

"It's only a comb," I whispered to myself. The familiar loathing swirled when the stinging began; I was losing it again. Closing my eyes, I fought the tears harboring beneath my lids and forced the hand holding the comb to terminate its trembling. "It's only a comb," I whispered louder, careful to not let my voice carry beyond the bathroom walls. "Letting another use it will not mean you have lost anything." Only when I felt the comfortable bands of my control slip back into place did I return to the living room. 

Duo had taken his hair out of the towel, and pulled it over his shoulder. It looked as if he was attempting to finger some of the tangles out and he accepted the comb gratefully. "Hey, thanks again, pal. I can't tell you what a relief it will be to get the mess done." I only nodded and left for the kitchen.

It took me a moment to remember what the bag of melting snow was for, and I felt a flash of annoyance. Holding it over the sink, I drained the water out and resealed the bag before wrapping it in an old hand towel. I stopped behind the couch, and asked quietly as the auto-racer struggled with his hair, "Is your knee swollen at all? Does it still bother you?"

He looked at me through clumps hanging in his face. "Uh, it still hurts, but don't think it's swollen. Why? Got something for it?"

I held up the towel wrapped bag. "An ice pack." I lifted the afghan at his knee, and examined it through the sweats. "It doesn't appear to be swollen, and if it doesn't hurt, then you probably won't need this."

"Ah, go ahead and put it on. I'll check it when I finish combing, and see if it's irritating the skin." I placed the pack carefully, and pulled the afghan back over his leg.

Back in the kitchen, I'd set the chicken on the stove to simmer in a light broth, deciding to make a simple chicken and rice dish. I'd already pulled out a bag of the garden vegetables I'd froze the previous fall and was in the middle of rummaging through the home canned fruits when I heard Duo call my name. I rose from my crouch and headed in his direction.

His eyes lifted from the two Kerr jars of fruit I held, and I could see the amused twinkle in them. "Need more peaches?" I glared at him. 

"I'm trying to decide which one will go best with dinner," I replied stiffly.

He looked between the two again and shrugged. "It's fruit, buddy. Either will. If you want to know what I'd prefer, I'd say the peaches. Pears are okay, but the texture grates in my mouth, ya'no?" He flashed a grin.

Looking between the two jars, I thought he might be right. I'd never thought of the texture of pears before, but they did feel grainy against the tongue. I rolled it over in my head, wondering how I could have not noticed something like that. When the phone lines were restored, I was going to research why pears felt the way they did, and what to do to make them less abrasive. Peaches for dinner, that was a given. 

I had turned back to the kitchen when I remembered Duo had called me for something. Looking back at him, I asked eyebrows drawn low, "Did you need something?"

His lips twitched, like he was trying to keep from grinning - again. "Well, yeah." He held up the end of his braid and waved it in the air. "It won't stay in the plait long without something to hold it, and my elastic broke. You wouldn't happen to have something to tie it off with? Or a rubber band or something, would ya?"

My eyes tracked the tassel of his braid, and I nodded. "I'll find something," I mumbled and set both jars on the butcher block. I knew without checking the chicken would be fine, and the rice was simmering nicely; another five minutes and I could set the broccoli mix in the steamer. Opening the back door, I stepped out onto the porch.

The cold took my breath away. With the heater, stove and fireplace going, the house had warmed up quite a bit. The thought of Duo coming through here to the other bedroom caused a brief pother before I shook it off. Entering the third bedroom, I went directly to the sewing supplies kept in the closet. Though I hadn't been in every drawer of the house, I was fairly certain there weren't any rubber bands and so far, I hadn't come across anything resembling an elastic hair tie. But I did search the bedrooms, and knew in the sewing basket several spools of ribbon of various colors and sizes were kept. I took out the two thinnest types in more or less neutral colors and cut off a length of each. I hoped it would work. I guess if Duo didn't like it, I could go out to the barn and cut a piece of garden twine.

Duo chose the brown ribbon, but held onto the green one. "I'll use it as a bookmark. Then if anything happens to this one, I'll have a spare close-by." When he smiled at me, I smiled back at him. I think I'd discovered the difference between his genuine smiles and the ones given out of habit. I'd decided to return only his sincere ones, and hoped he would make them all sincere. 

Lost in thought, I didn't realize Duo had finished tying off his hair and was watching me. When he caught my eye, he gave me another smile. This one was different; the sadness about his lips reflected in his eyes. I wondered at that for a moment only and headed back to the kitchen in time to save the chicken from burning. 

I'd set the table for the both of us and was putting dinner in their serving dishes when the light went out, causing Duo to gave a startled yelp. Two oil lamps on the mantle were lit and I brought one over to the coffee table to set near Duo. "I'll go start the generator and the lights will be back on in a few minutes," I told him quietly. 

"Don't get lost out there. I can hear the wind blowing, so you know the snow's pretty thick."

"I'll use the guy line, don't worry." And then wondered why I felt I had to reassure him. Shaking it off, I picked up the heavy-duty flashlight on my way out the back door.

_~ "Have you ever been afraid of the dark, Agent Yuy?"_

_"I don't think so."_

_"You… you're a strong man. I can't imagine you being afraid of anything. Do you fear, Agent Yuy?"_

_"Miss Relena…"_

_"No, it's okay… I'll be alright."_

_"You don't have to cry, Miss Relena. I won't let them hurt you."_

_"I know… I know. But I'm still afraid, Agent Yuy. Would you… could you… hold me? I know you don't… Thank you."_

_"Hush now, Miss Relena. It will be okay. Everything will be all right. Try to sleep. I'll be here." ~_

The night was dark and cold. Though I'd bundled in everything known to man to keep warm, the bitter wind still found a way to sneak inside and I was shivering before I'd even reached the shed. Having primed the generator a few hours before, I thought only of pushing the ignition button and going back to the warmth of the house. It didn't start.

Depressing the start button again, I heard a faint clicking sound and the motor still didn't catch. I gave brief thought as to why I'd bothered getting out of bed; the day hadn't been the best and wouldn't have been missed. The flashlight didn't reveal anything on the surface that could be causing the problem. To pull the access panel from the generator, I had to remove a glove; so deep was the cold, my fingers were instantly stiff and clumsy. For several long minutes, I stared into the guts of the motor, tracing the fuel and electrical lines with the flashlight. Nothing claimed responsibility. I should have known better; it was too dark, and I didn't have the schematics to properly diagnose the cause.

I replaced the panel, and pulled on my glove, making a note to check my fingers back at the house - the pads had lost feeling. My scarf unwrapped itself while I'd been examining the generator, and I wound it round again, tucking it into my collar. At no time had the wind died, and its howling through the shed's eves continued to send shivers down my spine.

Duo was standing by the kitchen door waiting for me with a warmed blanket. My fingers were too numb to hold it closed. Instead, I leaned up against the wall next to the stove, and let the heat seep in, thawing parts of me I hadn't realized were frozen. A slight ringing and the sloshing sound of blood thrumming in my ears kept me from hearing Duo speak; I could see his mouth move.

"What?" I asked, barely hearing my own muffled voice. Seeing Duo draw back wincing, I realized I must have been too loud. It took a moment, but two things dawned on me at the same time; Duo was standing very close to me, rubbing my arms, and I could hear him repeating the same thing.

"Of all the idiotic things! Going out in this cold. Snow blowing like a blizzard... just to turn on a light? Damn fool... should have left you on the porch." I blinked at him in confusion. 

"You were reading," I think I mumbled. My brain must have frozen from staying in the shed too long.

He looked up at me, hands stilled on my arms. "Heero? You okay?"

My fingers and toes started to hurt, and I could feel traces of a headache beginning. But I nodded. I would exam myself later for signs of exposure. Duo didn't need to be concern. "Dinner's ready. We should eat."

"Ah, o-okay," he took a step back, off-setting the balance of his bad leg by holding onto the countertop. "You gonna tell me what happened? Why the lights aren't on?"

I'd shuffled around him, clutching the corners of the blanket to my chest and had reached for one of the plates. "Generator won't start."

"What's wrong with it? Do you know?" I could hear him behind me, the scuff-step walk of a half limp and glared at him over my shoulder.

"Stop walking without support. You'll over-exert your knee."

He jerked back in surprise. "What's that got to do with the price of oranges in China?"

"What?" He'd totally confused me.

"We were talking about the generator not working. About the fact it's going to be pretty fucking cold in here before morning, you turning yourself into a God damned Bomb pop, and you're muttering shit about dinner and my knee? You have got to get your priorities together, buddy." Duo's voice sounded angry. 

Letting the blanket slide to the floor, I rubbed my forehead, fingers digging into the furrowing skin. The sharp pain precluding a migraine lanced through my head, making me draw a quick breath. It'd been too cold out there, and I'd been exposed too long. 

"Here," Duo said softly, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders again. "Let me help get these plates to the table, and we'll eat. Then you can tell me what happened, okay?" His hand rested lightly on my back. He felt so warm.

I dropped my hand to see his face, watch his eyes. He stood so close, and, for the first time, straight without my help. I noticed he wasn't as short as I'd thought; I maybe had two inches on him, his nose was in alignment with my mouth. One of those wild, random thoughts I rarely had flitted through my mind, and I wondered how warm his nose was, suddenly filled with the desire to touch it. 

As though he could hear my thoughts, Duo flushed and dropped his eyes. I swallowed hard and whispered, "Dinner's getting cold."

Without moving, he responded, "Yeah, we... we should go eat."

"I think the ignition coil is broke."

He laughed that deep rich laugh and met my gaze again. "You are really something, Heero Yuy." And his smile warmed me.

"Let me help you to the table, and I'll bring our plates." I'd regained the unraveling weave of control, and put another inch or two between us. Giving in, Duo allowed me to support him as he walked to the table.

It wasn't until dinner was half finished before I noticed all the lights. Looking around the room, I realized Duo must have collected all the oil lamps thorough out the house, lit and spaced them where they'd be needed the most. It must have taken some time, with his knee as bad as it was. I wondered why he bothered. 

"Oh, so you can smile spontaneously!" I glanced his way to see he was grinning at me, and surprised myself by smiling again.

"Thank you for bringing out the lamps. They make it nice in here."

"Well, you were gone for so long, I thought I was going to have to go look for you. Besides, down in the Caroline's, we may not have the cold and snow, but we have hurricanes about every two years. Hurricane lamps I am very familiar with and they are close cousins to your oil lamps." He was grinning again, his fork poised half-way to his mouth.

Another one of those random thoughts flitted. "Are you a Southerner then?"

He shook his head, chewing and swallowing. "Not really. I spent some of my formative years in the South though, and live there now because the best of the best on the circuit are there. Racing almost year round, that's what I'm talking about."

"Oh, that's right." I'd forgotten he was a pro. I think I'd seen him race on some set while on duty, once, but I couldn't remember exactly. "Nascar?"

"Damn right. Fastest cars and hottest action can only be found at Nascar."

I chewed slowly watching his face. His expressions had become animated and his whole body seem to radiate an energetic glow. Bringing my attention around with a start, I discovered he was waiting for me to answer a question, and I hadn't been listening, only watching him. Panic hovered and I leaned back, uncertain of what to say.

Duo leaned forward, his expression showing concern. "It's okay, buddy, really. If you don't want to come down sometime and stay, I understand. There'll be other races."

The pounding in my heart slowed. I'd misread his intention. Seeing the disappointed look, I blurted, "I'd like to come." He chuckled at my sudden enthusiasm. "I've never seen you race, at least, I don't think I have." He gave me an odd look, his head tilted slightly. "I-I've followed some of the racing news, but haven't had the time to watch or attend a race in many years. Not since... since Earnhart."

A flat look came into his eyes and he turned back to his food. "That long, huh? Well, nothing much has changed. 'Cept maybe the cars are faster and the regulations a little stricter."

We ate in silence for several minutes; I thought I'd somehow insulted him and didn't know what to say. Duo kept his head low, his eyes on his food and other than the sound of a fork or knife scrapping against a plate, only the logs popping sap in the fireplace could be heard. 

Though normally I reveled in silence - it was my bread and butter, I felt desperate to say something, to break the uneasy quiet between us. Grasping for any straw of knowledge I could, I asked a little too loudly, "Who's Winner?"

He paused mid-chew and raised his eyes to look at me. Swallowing, and leaning back in his chair, he asked, "Winner? Do you mean, Quatre Winner? Or winner of a race?"

I thought back to the scant reference. "I believe you were referring to a person. Someone you thought might have set up your accident so you'd take a vacation."

"That would be Quatre then." He chuckled, the flat look no longer present. "Quate, well, it's rather complicated, see." I waited without saying anything, listening to him. "We sort of grew up together... he's kind of like my brother, only now, he sponsors my car." I nodded, hoping to hear more. "He's from Old Money, ya'no. His greats a few greats ago fought in The War, and that's how they refer to it too, in his family. Capital letters and all. Not Quat though. He's as down to Earth as they come, generous and kind to a fault, but ruthless and sharp in business dealings." Duo gave another of his laughs, his eyes twinkling in the lamplight. "Some of his family actually call him "The Yankee" because he doesn't mess around. Quatre's cool, man, and I'll introduce you to him when you come down for a visit."

"He sounds like it." My response was automatic, knowing one was needed but not sure how to keep him talking. Chasing a piece of broccoli around my plate, it clicked. "You don't mean Quatre R. Winner? Of Winner EIC?" At his nod, I suddenly felt faint and would have slipped from my chair had my hand not been gripping the table so tight.

"Heero? Hey Heero, you okay, man?" Duo's face swam before me, and the lights flowed in zigzag patterns around the room.

Quatre Winner.

_~"Really, Agent Yuy, it'll be fun. Come on and join us at the pool!"_

_"No thank you, Miss Relena. I prefer to stay right here."_

_"But what if I start to drown? Who's going to save me?"_

_"You can swim more than adequately, Miss Relena. And if you have any difficulties, I have been assured Mr. Winner is very capable of saving you."_

_"Agent Yuy, you take all the fun out of a vacation. What if I want you to be there? What if I want you to save me?"_

_"Miss Relena, I am your Security Officer. Protocol requires I maintain professionalism at all times while on duty. I will always be on duty in your presence. I apologize it cannot be any other way."_

_"Are you... Never mind, Agent Yuy. I-I'm sorry I've been such a trial to you. I'll try to stay professional as well."_

_"Thank you, Miss Relena."_

_"You are coming with us to the islands tomorrow, aren't you, Agent Yuy? Quatre's going to have an old fashion clam bake and there will be a dance later. You will dance with me again, won't you?"_

_"My presence will be necessary tomorrow as part of the security detail. A dance would be distractive. But... ask me again after it starts..." ~_

"...Miss Relena."

"Wha...?" 

I opened my eyes to see Duo staring wide-eyed into my face. He stood braced against the table, both hands on my shoulders shaking me. For a moment, my control crashed and I was horrified to feel the tears start. I pulled away from him abruptly and jumped up from my seat. "I need to get more wood," I nearly shouted, hurrying out the kitchen door. 

The porch was utterly black and bitterly cold. The tears instantly froze on my face and the air I sucked into my lungs burned liquid fire. I wiped at my cheeks with a shaky hand and stumbled forward to the stacked logs. The door opened behind me, and a shaft of light shone a little too bright.

"Heero, I can give you a moment if you want, but I really think you should come back inside. It's too cold out here."

Drawing in a deep breath, coughing with its burn, I shook my head, not caring if he could see the movement. "It's all right. I'll come back inside now." I turned and shuffled toward the light, not daring to look at him.

He closed the door behind us as I stepped through, and we stood side by side, close without touching. I could feel his eyes on me but mine never left the floor. "It looks like we both have a few demons to fight." His tone was soothing, relaxed, and I let his words wash over me, let them drain the pain the memory caused. 

"A few demons, yes." __

"Heero," his voice was soft, deep and I felt a hand on my arm. "I know you don't know me well, but if you need to talk... maybe I can help?" 

I pulled myself together staggeringly - a drunk enacting pretense on too little sleep. "I... there's nothing wrong." I pushed away from the door and willed my feet to work correctly. "You should go rest your knee while I clean up. It will only take a few minutes, then I can get some ointment to ease some of the stiffness out of its ligaments." I think I'd started rambling, but I'd entered the dance and couldn't stop. 

Stacking plates, bowls and half-filled glasses on top one another, I carried them to the sink and began to fill it. A soapy rag and a few vigorous rubs later, the table was spotless, the counters clean and the stove as if nothing had been cooked on it. Up to my elbows in sudsy water, I felt his presence. 

"Let me help," he extended.

The shuddering wouldn't stop and I gripped the sink ledge, closing my eyes. "I can't," I whispered. 

"You don't have to say anything. You don't have to tell me anything, but let me be here. All right? I'll wash dishes, or dry them... just let me be here."

He was close. I could feel the warmth of him, smell my shampoo in his hair, the smoke from the fire and a hint of garlic from the chicken. Without opening my eyes, I leaned into his warmth. Our shoulders touched, supporting one another, and I let the anxiety pass. The tension eased away and I felt warm, if only a small amount. Inhaling deeply, I pulled my hands from the water, and grabbed the towel on the drain.

"You wash, I'll dry. You really should be off that knee."

Brushing his shoulder into mine, he snickered, "Fine, then, you can carry me back to the couch when we're done."

"Deal." He shot me a startled look, but I was already turning away, hanging up the pots and pans above the baker's rack, pretending I hadn't seen. I might have wanted my solitude, resented the intrusion, and might have been unprepared for his flirting, but I didn't want to lose what he was offering me - if only for a little while. For most of a year, I'd locked away memories, stifled emotions and forgot those lessons taught from a lifetime ago. Duo's presence drudged them up, uncovered and dusted them off for some reason, and I had some inkling I'd be moving to the next stage... to the new man I was to be.


	3. Part III

**Solitude in White**

by Merith

Pairings: 1+2   
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, language, angst, mild Heero OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

A/N: A little something I threw together to try and enter into a blanket fic contest, but I didn't finish it in time. Ah well, such is life, and deadlines are deadlines. In actually, I didn't really start to write this story to enter the contest as much as to prove a point - a blanket fic can be written without resorting to making your characters have wild monkey sex in the cold. Though you will find some pretty sensual stuff in here, it's all fairly clean.

Thanks and all that: Of course this wouldn't have been possible with the help of my friend Alba - Thanks hon, I wooove you! And a very special thanks to Arithion for the last minute beta and suggestions. Also, a nudge to CaseyValhalla for letting me bounce a couple of things off her.

~

Part III:

Practicality won another round that night, for without electricity, the furnace was ineffective and the fireplace heat didn't travel much beyond the two feet of hallway. After a short discussion on sleeping arrangements, I'd pulled out the sleeper to the couch and brought out a couple arm loads of blankets, comforters and pillows. Nearly ready to call it a night, I made a final pass around the house to check the windows for drafts, and to blow out unnecessary lamps. 

Duo had settled into bed, no longer resisting my request. His knee had swollen and though he said nothing, I could see he was in a great deal of pain. He'd allowed me to half-carry him as I said I would, and after taking aspirin, he lay still with his leg propped up. 

I came out from the back of the house carrying a couple hand towels and a jar, and closed the hallway door firmly. Duo looked up from the book he'd been reading, his eyes on my hands. "I brought the ointment for your knee," I answered his unspoken question, sitting on the bed next to him. He was either tired or in pain, for he didn't say a word, only watched as I threw off the comforter covering his legs. 

Frowning at the sweatpants, I asked in a serious tone, "Down or up?" hoping I didn't have to explain what I meant.

It took him a moment to reply. "Down. I don't think the band will make it over my knee without causing more pain than it'd be worth." He'd already started to shift, pushing at the waistband of the sweats. I lent a hand, keeping my thoughts clinical and trying not to think of how warm his skin felt.

His knee had nearly doubled in size and I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything. Part of the reason for his overuse had been to assist me and find the oil lamps. Detaching my mind from the job, I let my fingers and hand go to work. The menthol oil based compound let off a mostly pleasant odor as I smoothed it on and though I was gentle, Duo hissed and clutched the sheet. As the topical analgesic began to take effect, he started to relax.

"Not that I want to know, I mean, I do want to know but... " he stammered. "Shit, this is hard." I paused in my work and looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. "Can you tell me what happened to my car? Is it totaled?" he asked with a rush.

Not sure where that thought come from, I didn't answer immediately. I smoothed more ointment on the side of his knee, and considered how to reply. "I don't think it'll be totaled, but there is damage."

He sighed and laid back on the pillows, no longer twisting the comforter. "That's good to know. You think you can take me to it in the morning? I'd really like to see."

"After I fix the generator, and if it's not snowing, I don't see why not." I kept my eyes on what I was doing, not wanting to see his expression.

"Great! I built that baby and man, I so didn't want anything to happen to it." I grunted non-committally. "So, can you tell me how it looked? I mean, what the damage looked like?"

Frowning, I peered up at him, trying to remember how I'd seen the car. It'd only been roughly twelve hours previous, but it felt like days ago. "Front quarter panel has minimal damage from what I could tell. Driver's side door panel crushed, the structure or frame's integrity is questionable, and the rear quarter panel and possibly the rear bumper will have to be replaced completely."

"That bad, huh?" He'd been listening to me list the destruction, his face stricken. 

"You hit a tree. It's a good thing your frame's integrity isn't questionable."

He gave a low laugh. "Yeah, I guess I got lucky once again." Duo was quiet for a moment, picking at the lint on the sweater. When he didn't appear to have any more questions, I went back to his knee. "Hey, let me work on the generator tomorrow, 'kay? It's the least I can do for... for everything."

I frowned up at him again. "Do you think you can do it?"

Duo grinned and shoved lightly on my arm. "There isn't a motor I can't repair, improve, and purr like a kitten." He'd said the last with an almost feral tone and leaning forward, he added, deepening his voice, "Not a single motor."

Refusing to respond to his suggestiveness, I went about wrapping his knee in one of the towels I'd brought. "I'm not so sure, but if you think you can... only it is a generator not a car."

He lifted his hips up off the mattress allowing me to slide the sweats back into place. "Hey, buddy, I was weaned on Valvoline and teethed on piston rings. I can handle it." 

"Hnmm." It wasn't that I believed he couldn't fix it; I'd more than likely let him work on it in the morning. I noticed the bruises on his hips I'd seen earlier and glanced at the ointment. It did soothe subcutaneous injuries, and might relieve some of the pain he had. As if he was expecting it, Duo pulled the shirt and sweater up to his shoulders, exposing his torso from chest to hips. I sucked in a breath looking at the bruises mottling his skin. 

"I think you might have hit the steering wheel here." I touched one set of bruises along the side of his ribs, frowning in concentration.

"Feels like it. Too bad I didn't have a racing harness installed in Deathscythe."

My fingers stilled in lathing a bruise on his hip. "Death scythe?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, well... that's the name of my car, my Challenger. He's a demon on wheels, and cuts down any opposition like it was harvest time."

I could feel myself smile at his vernacular and flicked my eyes up to meet his briefly. "These came from the seat belt, and is what probably kept you inside the car." He hissed, as the cooling compound seeped into his pores. "Which brings me to the question I've been meaning to ask all day." My eyes met his, and held. "What were you doing on an isolated highway in South Dakota at five in the morning, anyway?

Duo grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. He wasn't looking at me any longer, having turned his gaze to stare at the oil lamp. "Hnmm, well, it's like this... I'd just come from a memorial service."

The cluster of bruises on his hips I'd finished, and I moved up to one set on his chest. His skin twitched as I started smoothing the creme onto it. "In Grennell?" I couldn't think of anyone who'd died recently, but then, I rarely went to town and kept my visits strictly to business.

"Nah, O'Neil."

Pausing in my work, I glanced up at him, puzzled. "Nebraska?" He nodded, still not looking at me. "That's over five hundred miles away. What... why are you here?"

The silence stretched for several heartbeats. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, his tone self-conscious, reflective. "You have your demons, I have mine."

I blew out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding and nodded. I knew about privacy and wouldn't pry. 

My fingers traced the pattern of bruising low on one side of his chest before applying the ointment. His skin was cooling, being exposed to the slight chill in the house and I sped up my task. "I think when the snow clears you might want to get these x-rayed. You might have cracked a rib." I probed gently with my fingertips. "Does it hurt?"

He shifted, but his response was completely unexpected, "You're not hetro, you know."

Trying to keep my respiration to a normal rate, I responded in as neutral a tone as I could. "I haven't thought much about it."

Duo's hand covered mine; my fingers lay splayed near the center of his chest. The warmth of his hand confused me and I left mine there, feeling his heart beating under it. The beat's steady rhythm contrasted with the yammering of my own, loud enough I almost didn't hear him whisper, "Maybe you should."

I pulled my hand away and sat up, unaware I'd been drawing closer to him the longer I administered the ointment. Straightening his shirt and sweater, I didn't meet his eyes. As I wiped my hand off on the other towel, I announced, "I'm not going to have sex with you."

He gave a short laugh in that same rich baritone I'd come to really enjoy hearing. Duo grabbed my sleeve as I stood, staring up at me. I couldn't say what I'd seen in his expression. A sense of loss, maybe? Part sadness, with a hint of amusement and something else lurked just beyond the edges, something I could not or did not want to understand.

When he spoke, he kept his voice light and soft, "Maybe next time."

Why I felt I had to respond to that semi-arrogant statement, I couldn't fathom. There was something about that professional racer that compelled me to do and say things I wouldn't normally. "Maybe." 

He smiled one of those soft, sincere smiles and released my sleeve. I hesitated a moment in leaving to return the smile. It was all I could give him. All I dared give him.

It wasn't an hour later I heard him say, "Heero, man, slide your heat closer and help this poor freezing southern boy. I promise I won't touch anything."

I delayed for only a moment before giving in. His slight movements for the past few minutes offered proof to his words; he truly believed he was cold. Sitting up, I gathered the slack of my blanket and comforter, and draped it over Duo as I slipped under his covers to align my body to his. His relief was immediate, and he sighed dramatically. 

"It's more psychological, you know." 

He peeked over the edge of the blankets. "What is?"

Careful to keep my head at a proper distance from his, I intoned, "The house temperature is currently in the mid to high sixties range. The human body will not freeze nor will this temperature cause undo duress; it is neither too hot nor too cold, it is a neutral state. Therefore, if you feel cold, it is your mind believing the conditions outside play a part on your body's physiology." 

"I don't know about outside, but it's getting pretty damned frigid in here."

Deliberately misunderstanding his comment, I asked, "Do you want me to fix you a hot water bottle?"

He choked on his laugh and chuckling, he gave my shoulder a half-hearted punch under the covers. "You're really something Heero Yuy. Hot water bottle.... shit." He was grinning good-naturedly, his head now uncovered.

I think I drifted off to sleep shortly after that; the long day, the exertion and the emotional roller coaster I'd been fighting had taken its toll. The heat from the fire washed over me, soaking into the blankets and permeated deep into my cell tissue. The sound of Duo's breathing soothed me, and his warmth at my side lent a comforting hand, seeming to rock my slumber with a gentle motion.

The trembling body next to me caused me to wake. Duo had rolled on his side in the night, his chest pressed tight against my arm, his left leg lay across my thighs and his head lay next to mine on my pillow, his breath blowing lightly on my neck. I felt a soft weight on my abdomen and reached up to touch it. It was his hand.

I started to notice the chill in the room, and the muted glow from the fireplace. From an intrinsic sense, I thought the hour close to three in the morning and swore under my breath. I'd wanted to feed the fire about midnight to keep the room temperature at an even level; I'd overslept and the fire was nearly out.

Slipping out from under Duo was harder than I thought possible. I didn't want to wake him, jostle his knee - which happened to be lying over my thigh, nor let the cold air inside the cocoon of blankets. He stirred as I rose, scooting closer to stop in the warm spot where I'd lain. I poked at the embers, and tossed on a handful of starter sticks before laying some smaller logs in the near dead ash of last night's fire.

The hearth was warm, in delicious contrast to the air in the house. The fire flamed hot, heating my cheeks and stifling the chills that were making my body shiver. I waited for the logs to catch and burn down enough to provide a good base for a larger hardwood log - one that would last until morning. Staring into the flames in a half doze, I hadn't realized Duo had joined me until he spoke.

"Have you ever thought of dying, Heero Yuy?" I turned my head to look at him, curled in a blanket at my side watching the flames as I'd been doing.

"Once or twice."

"Have you ever come close to it?"

"Once or twice." I blinked and shifted my position to face him. He seemed different somehow - his voice lacked the confidence so much in abundance from the time he'd woken the day before. When no additional questions were forthcoming, I asked quietly, "Why? Have you?"

He nodded his eyes riveted on the fire, and opened his mouth as if to say something only to close it again. His gaze dropped and he seemed to shake himself before looking at me. Offering a small smile, he asked, "Do you want to know why I'm here? In South Dakota, I mean?"

I hesitated only a moment. "If you want to tell me, then yes, I do want to know."

Eyes bright in the flickering light, he let out a quiet sigh. "Less than a week ago, I was in another accident. Only this one happened on the practice course - a five car pile-up. …I walked away without a scratch." He gave a harsh laugh and turned back to stare at the fire. "Hell, I didn't even strain a muscle. But others weren't so lucky." His lids slid closed. "I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave. His family. Friends he knew his whole fuckin' life." He drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I've been in over twenty wrecks, not counting fender clips. Twenty serious fucking accidents I could have died. I should have died."

The firelight shone bright on his profile, highlighting his high cheekbone and angular jaw line. I stared in fascination as his chin began to tremble and then stiffen; watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. 

"The first accident left me an orphan. Mom, Dad, even Solo …gone. Me... well... I lucked out. I'd fallen asleep laying down in the back seat. Solo ... Solo used to always ride sitting forward, hanging over the front seat trying to see the road ahead." His voice drifted in a low tone, cracking brokenly on an occasional word. "They said he never saw it - Dad didn't, the fog had been too thick - the jack-knifed semi. They said if I'd been awake and sitting up, I would have died too." 

Not sure what to say, I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. He leaned into my touch, dropping his head to rest on my arm. I shifted again, moving closer and put my arm around him, giving him a measure of my strength. 

"When is my luck going to run out, Heero? When will it be my turn for what's left of my family, for my friends to gather around in some stupid social hall and tell stories about me?" 

Taking a deep breath, I released it slowly. "I'm probably the last person to ask that question. I don't know the answer for it myself."

I felt him nod against my arm, felt the rumble of his voice against my hand at his back. "Yeah, I guess. Your luck held for awhile, though, didn't it?" 

I tried not to stiffen at his question. He was approaching topics not to be discussed. "It did. For awhile." 

"What are you most afraid of, Heero Yuy?" He'd closed his eyes, and one of his hands lay relaxed, palm up on his thigh. I stared at it, tracing its lines with my eyes, seeing the thick yellow calluses and his long, almost delicate fingers. 

"Failure."

He grunted in surprise and rolled his head to look up at me. "Is that why you're here?" he asked in a low whisper, his voice deep.

"Yes," I breathed the answer as I continued to stare at his hand. His fingers twitched slightly, curling briefly.

"Are you afraid to..."

__

~ "..die, Agent Yuy?"

"No one's going to die, Miss Relena. I'll get you out of this."

"I believe you. I-I trust you, Agent Yuy. But ... are you? Are you afraid to die?"

"I've never thought about it much, Miss Relena."

"What do you fear, Heero?"

"...to live."~

Duo's hand brushed my cheek, wiping away the moisture there. His eyes were filled with pain, regret and sorrow, staring into mine. "I was supposed to be there that weekend. Quatre invited me, but I begged off. I had a chance to race at Talladega, and didn't want to pass it up."

I started rocking, not wanting to listen, but not able to stop. 

"I knew her, you know. Met her at a couple of those party things Quatre's always throwing. She was a special lady and the world is less for her loss."

I shook my head from side to side. I didn't care that the tears had started. I didn't care that I was moaning.

"You saved most of them, Quatre's other guests - some of his family. There were almost a hundred people on the island that day."

"No... no... please..."

"Quatre tried to find you, when he got out of the hospital. Your friend - Chang? He wouldn't say where you were; no one could find you."

I had pulled away from him, wrapped my arms over my stomach and leaned forward, certain I was going to be sick. 

"You have to let her go, Heero. She's gone," his breath was a whisper.

His hand, his warm hand was on my back. It's heat radiated through my shirt, through my skin and tissue. I could feel it touch my heart and I cried out; a sob wrenched from my body, nearly throwing me out of his half embrace. 

"She was so scared. She didn't want to die... she only wanted to dance." I was shaking from a cold I'd buried for so long.

"It's okay, Heero. It's going to be okay." His hand ran soothingly over my back.

"I shouldn't have left her. I was supposed to protect her. I let her die." I was crying now, like I hadn't before, like I couldn't before.

He clucked softly, reaching up to wipe at my tears with gentle fingers. "You had to. And you only left to try and protect her - her and all the others."

"I shouldn't have left her. She was so scared. I would have died for her." My tears had stopped, my voice a cracked and trembling thing.

"You know if she'd known that by her death she'd save nearly a hundred others, she would have given it bravely."

He was so close, an arm around me, a hand on my face... I felt myself drown in his warmth. Shuddering, I slumped, nearly laying in his lap. His hand brushed my hair, stroked my cheek. He bent over me, whispering words I couldn't make out, couldn't understand.

"She only wanted to dance..."

~


	4. Part IV

****

Solitude in White 

by Merith

Pairings: 1+2   
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, language, angst, mild Heero OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

A/N: A little something I threw together to try and enter into a blanket fic contest, but I didn't finish it in time. Ah well, such is life, and deadlines are deadlines. In actually, I didn't really start to write this story to enter the contest as much as to prove a point - a blanket fic can be written without resorting to making your characters have wild monkey sex in the cold - though that can be fun as well! And though you will find some pretty sensual stuff in here, it's all fairly clean.

Thanks and all that: Of course this wouldn't have been possible with the help of my friend Alba - Thanks hon, I wooove you! And a very special thanks to Arithion for the last minute beta and suggestions. Also, a nudge to CaseyValhalla, Saro, and Mereilla for letting me bounce a couple of things off them.

~

Part IV:

Sunlight peered around the edges of the window blinds, a shaft winked across my face, pulling me from sleep. I lay strangely restful, almost hedonistically content despite the rawness of my eyes. Though it was much later than when I usually woke, I didn't believe the extra hours created the sated feeling. 

No, I cannot say that my heart was now at peace; one night of telling my pain, my failure, and facing it instead of hiding would not instantly heal. But the wound no longer festered, and I could see a thin trail leading me out of the dark. My contentment, if it could be called that, was rooted in the connection I held to the one who'd seen me at my worst, and still asked to help. 

Duo.

I lay curled up by his side as if I was a child seeking comfort after a nightmare. In a way, I guess I had been; only my nightmare had lasted six months. With my head pillowed on his shoulder, and one hand resting lightly on his chest, I could feel him breathe and hear his heart beat. The sounds his body made soothed me in a way I never thought sleeping next to someone would. I'd never shared a bed with anyone in my life, always believing I would never be able to sleep if I had.

Sex, I have had. Never the romantic kind so often touted. Never the kind where touch played a part. Sex was merely a physical act, not to bring pleasure, but release. A quick meeting of bodies in some nondescript motel; a couple of bills left on the nightstand and it was over. 

Listening to him breath, I had a feeling my idea of sex was about to change. If we were ever to engage in intercourse, it would not be a mere meeting of bodies. 

"You awake?" I stirred then, starting to rise only to feel his hand at my back holding me down. "You don't have to move, I just wondered."

"I'm awake," I croaked more than said. Another reminder of how I'd spent the night.

He shifted a little, trying to look at me. "You gonna be okay? I mean, you're not going to be upset 'bout last night and all, are you?" While his tone returned to its confident timbre, a hint of uncertainty wove in its pattern.

I nodded without replying. The need to get up and start the day began to weigh heavily, and I could feel the uneasiness increasing. Duo's warmth drew me to him; I felt the reluctance to rise even as I pulled away.

"Ah, son-of-a-bitch," he muttered. "Thought you said you're okay with everything."

Pausing on the side of the mattress, I sat back to watch him. He scowled at me in return, one hand absently rubbing at one of the cluster of bruises on his chest. I started to shake my head, but stopped. "Last night isn't the problem." 

"Then what is?" he looked petulant and childlike with his hair mussed and sweater rumpled. He continued to scowl though his eyes belied his inner state; he was worried and that reassured me.

I gave him a half smile and straightened my sweatshirt. "The morning's getting later as we stay here, and there are jobs that need to be done before it gets dark." His eyes widened slightly and he looked at his watch. "I want to have the generator fixed this morning if possible. As... pleasurable as last night was, I want to sleep in a well heated house and not have to wake throughout the night to add wood to the fire."

He grinned at me, then and slid his legs off the bed on his side. "Right. I'll take care of the bed, and you get us something to eat." He'd already started pulling off the mountain of blankets and tossing pillows off to on the recliner. 

As I stoked the fire, and added another log, he asked, "You're still going to take me to my car, aren't you? I've got some of my stuff in there; clothes, my hairbrush and a toothbrush."

Crouching at the hearth, I winced. I'd completely forgot about setting out a spare toothbrush for him. "We'll go as soon as the generator is fixed." I brushed off my hands, and swept up the bark and other debris in front of the fireplace. "If it's not snowing," I added heading towards the hallway. I wanted to wash up and get rid of the gritty feeling in my eyes.

"Sure, anything you say, buddy," his voice was muffled under a stack of blankets. "Where do you want me to put these?"

I relieved him of half the pile and gestured for him to follow. Leading him down the hall, the contented feeling from the morning grew a small degree. I didn't even pause to think on the change this time, and felt a sense of comfort in just letting it happen. Duo's easy smile warmed me as I took his blankets and put them away in the closet. My eyes lingered on the casual way he stood leaning against the wall, imagining what further changes to my life he'd make with his constant presence and blithe manner. 

As though he knew what I was thinking, his smile broadened. Instead of the joke or come on I half expected, he surprised me by asking, "What's for breakfast? I'm starved." 

The feeling I was going to get used to hearing him ask that didn't bother me as much as I thought it should.

After breakfast, I'd left Duo to tinker with the generator while I cleared a path to the barn and readied the snowmobile for use. Poking my head into the shed a little over an hour later caused a twinge of regret in letting him near it. He had the access panel off and part of the electrical assembly out, leaving wiring and hoses still half connected to the engine body. 

Sitting perched on an overturned bucket, he looked up grinning and gave me a wink. "Almost there and she'll be purring like a kitten." 

I made a face at the apparent mess spread out in front of him and raised a brow. "It looks like you're disemboweling it."

He wagged a finger at me chiding, "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You dare to doubt the Master?" He held out his hands, palm up. "These hands are miracle workers, and they'll have this motor back in shape better than new before noon."

Lingering for a moment longer as he bent back to his work, I watched as those hands seemed to know instinctively what to do, where to be, and how to do what needed to be done. Satisfied he wasn't about to leave us stranded for another night in the cold, I returned to the house, and started stew for lunch.

A little more than an hour before noon, Duo had the generator running. A simple matter of cleaning a connector and the engine roared to life. I hadn't been expecting it, and the sudden resurgence of lights had me scrambling to find and switch them all off. Duo had appeared shortly thereafter, grinning arrogantly, and demanding I keep my end of the bargain by taking him to see his car. 

Immediately upon our arrival at the crash site, Duo was off the Polaris snowmobile and trudging his way around the buried mound. When he spotted the wrecked side, with its deep dents and rended metal, his cry was loud. ""Deathscythe baby! What have I done to you?" He'd ripped the stocking cap off his head, and removed gloves to kneel in the snow, rubbing his hands down the car's exterior. He exclaimed at every gouge and shouted out with the injustice of bent chrome and scratched paint.

"Duo, it's only a car." I finally lost patience with listening to him bemoan the damage, and tried for rationality. 

He spun on me and the torrent of his anger came flashing out in a rush, "Only a car? ONLY A CAR?" His hands gestured maniacally about, his face was red, livid, and for a moment I half expected him to hit me to emphasize each word he spoke.

My eyes widened at his unexpected venomous response, and I stepped back. "It is just a."

"NO!" his shout rang out over the fields and I took another step back. Duo must have seen something in my expression for he took a deep breath and when he began speaking again, his voice was low, in a more neutral tone. "See, there are many kinds of cars in this world but for me, there will be only one Deathscythe." His eyes gleamed and a half-wistful smile flashed. "It isn't that it's a thing, it isn't that it's something I've worked on for years. It's. ah shit, you wouldn't understand."

Mesmerized by his speech, I watch as he turned from me and moved closer to his car. Forcing myself to ignore the cold, I followed him, picking up his discarded gloves and hat as I went. "Try me," I told him, handing him his forgotten clothing. He gave me one of his genuine smiles as he tugged on the gloves, and adjusted the cap. 

"Some cars have life," he intoned quietly. Gently, almost reverently, as he spoke he began brushing the snow from the roof and sides. "And some cars have soul. Some cars have both and those, pal, are special. You treat them right, and they'll purr like a kitten for you. They are never just a thing; they are a part of you." I didn't understand, but I thought I might have an idea. The car was partly uncovered now, its black paint glistening in the bright sunlight. "This, my friend, is pure engineering. You do not call a 1970 Dodge Challenger 'just a car'!"

I could only watch a bit bewildered while he continued to remove the snow, and caress the icy black metal as he exposed it. 

Two hours after we'd left we were back and I was opening the wide double doors to the barn. I watched as Duo drove the Polaris inside, turned off the engine and sat in silence, fuming. I stood at the doors and waited. His hands remained on the Frontier's controls; he hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. I could hear the ticking sound of the snowmobile's engine as it cooled and I waited. His boots planted on either side of the wide runners dropped snow onto the concrete floor to lay in tiny piles. I briefly wondered how long the clumps would stay before the temperatures warmed enough to melt it, and I waited.

The wind gusted outside catching the barn doors and, the one I wasn't holding onto, slammed shut with enough force to rattle the eves. I scowled. I was tired of waiting.

"Duo, come on. Let's go inside." 

"Leave me alone, Heero. I just want to sit here for awhile," he growled.

Closing my eyes, I reminded myself of the exchange we'd had after arriving at the crash site. I hadn't meant to be insulting; his car could be replaced, after all, but his response was as if I'd committed the gravest of sins. 

Breaking out of my reverie and swallowing my irritation, I closed and latched the doors behind me, plunging the barn's interior into a dusky gloom. I strode forward to stand just inside his line of sight and leaned against the workbench not taking my eyes off of him. Duo hadn't moved and hadn't acknowledged I was there. I began to notice little things; his cheeks chapped from the wind and cold, his bangs flattened against his brow from the cap, and the way his chest shuddered with barely concealed control with each breath.

"This isn't about the car. What's going on, Duo?" I asked quietly.

He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the control dials in front of him but spoke slowly, "I got blood all over the seats. It'll never come out and I'll have to replace them."

I nodded my head and made an intuitive leap I've never been known for. "Let it stain."

Duo raised his head to look at me, puzzlement clearly written on this face. "Huh?"

"Let it stain," I repeated. "It will remind you each time you see it of your mortality."

His hands fell away from the grips and his gaze dropped back to the gauges. "I don't think I'm having a problem with that right now." His eyes closed, and he drew in a long shuddering breath. Releasing it slowly, he opened his eyes. Duo tilted his head to peer up at the ceiling as if looking for answers to questions unasked. "Do you believe in Fate? Destiny? All that crap?"

My limited experience with the man was enough to keep me from saying what I would have normally. Instead, I frowned and answered, "I believe man creates his own destiny by the choices he makes."

He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Still not looking at me, he placed his fingertips on the Polaris' smooth panel in front of him and pushed down hard. "I believe Fate is after me," Duo whispered. "I believe I was destined to die in that crash with my family, and by some perverse quirk of luck, I slept through it." He had stopped trying to gouge grooves in the snowmobile's metal tank, and looked at me, his expression full of anguish. "Fate's been trying to correct the mistake ever since."

I shifted, uncomfortable with the strength of his faith in what he believed. "Duo, you are a professional driver, right?" He looked confused but nodded. "You trained to be a professional for a good portion of your life, correct?" He nodded again. "And as a professional, you use your judgement based upon experience and knowledge to take risks and make decisions, right?"

A light began to dawn, and a smile hovered. "Don't use that psychology shit on me, Yuy." But he started grinning.

"You've managed to avoid death, not by cheating Fate, but by creating your own destiny."

Shaking his head, Duo slid off the snowmobile and tossed me the keys. "Thanks man. I. I'm not sure how much I put into what you've said, but you've given me something to think about." 

I led him out of the barn carrying the overnight bag he's rescued from the car. "I'll start lunch when we get in the house. You should rest your knee before it swells again."

Duo grinned and shoved a shoulder into mine. "If I do, you'll just have to rub that gunk on it again... make it all better."

"Don't you have a book to finish reading?" I actually smirked at him, sure my actions were frustrating his over active libido. 

Brows instantly drawn low in contemplation, Duo asked, "Lost Horizons, Heero?" 

Shrugging casually, I paused. "You could have taken Alcott's Little Women."

He snorted. "Nah, Hilton's pretty cool. I just don't get that Mallinson guy, though. Why would he want to leave? It's like a paradise there."

"It's supposed to make you think and come to your own conclusions about what each character..." my voice trailed off as I caught the sounds of a motor in the distance and I stopped walking. Duo ran into me and started to say something before he too, heard the distant rumble.

"Who would that be?" he asked looking around squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun on snow.

By focusing on where the sound originated, and ignoring the back echo, I nodded sharply. "That would be Barton." 

Duo grimaced. "And that'd be - who?"

"A neighbor. He lives about a mile from where you'd crashed on the other side of Highway 14." I started forward again, leaving Duo in his attempt in locating my upcoming visitor. "Come on inside. It'll take him ten, fifteen minutes through this snow." 

Though he seemed reluctant to follow, his obvious curiosity making him want to stay and wait, Duo trudged in my footsteps. I had to admit I was a little more than curious myself. Though he'd stopped by a scan handful of times in the past, Barton wasn't one for dropping in for a visit, and beginning the habit at this particular time seemed more than unusual for the man to start. 

I had more than enough time to put the kettle on for tea, and retrieve the pot of stew I'd started before we went to Duo's car. The stew still had a few minutes to simmer, but the tea was ready as my neighbor switched his SnowCat to idle and climbed down. Duo was already at the door, shrugging into his coat as he went. I gave the stew one last stir, and joined him. 

The tall man had stopped when he spotted my other guest and looked from him to me. He nodded his head in greeting. "Yuy."

"Barton," I intoned, inclining my head. He looked at Duo again, and I could read the curiosity in his expression. Not waiting for me to make the introductions, Duo stepped forward extending his hand.

"Hello there! I'm Duo Maxwell." 

Shaking his hand, my neighbor offered with a slight nod, "Trowa Barton." As he dropped his hand, Barton asked, "Maxwell? The Nascar driver?"

"Guilty as charged," Duo's easy grin flashed.

"That must be your Challenger parked off the side of the road, then," Barton's lips twitched.

Duo looked a way, embarrassed and gave out a little laugh. "Guilty again."

"Too bad." He paused for a moment before asking with interest, "Four twenty-five?"

Pleased, Duo jumped on the question nodding, "You bet your ass! A four twenty-five Street Hemi big block with a sweet four barrel Holley carb." Barton whistled and looked as if he had another question. 

"What brings you out this way?" I broke in, drawing his attention. 

Looking a bit uncomfortable, the tall man glanced in my direction before looking back at Duo again. He said wryly, "I could hear someone yelling down to my place. Wasn't sure what was going on, but heard your Frontier, and thought I'd come check it out." His gaze met mine and he added, "Glad it wasn't what I thought."

I was surprised. Since I barely knew the man, I hadn't thought it would enter his mind to check up on me. I wanted to say something, to let him know I appreciated his concern, but Duo moved drawing my attention away from the tall man.

"We were about to eat lunch, would you like to join us?" he asked. Seeing Barton's obviously puzzled look he shot in my direction, Duo hesitated a moment before turning to me. "It's all right, isn't it, Heero?" 

Barton's confusion was understandable; in the months I've lived on the farm, and the dozen or more visits he's paid me, not once has the man been invited in for tea let alone a meal. For a scant moment, I felt the bands of my control slip; I didn't want my isolation to be trampled on any more than it had. But looking at Duo, and seeing the apprehension in his expression, I released the winding knot of anxiety building within. Nodding briefly at the tall man, I gave Duo a short smile. "That should be fine. There will be plenty." Not waiting for the two to follow, I turned and went back into the house.

Including my neighbor for lunch wasn't as bad as I was anticipating it to be. After serving the stew and pouring the tea, I ate half listening to Duo talk about racing, cars and the Nascar circuit. He answered questions and asked a few of his own. I let the noise they were making wash around me and lost myself in my own thoughts. 

Duo had said he had his own demons to battle, and from the discussions last night as well as in the barn a few minutes ago, I was certain it was the transience of life he fought. With the deaths in his history and profession, he had seen enough to know the odds, and has had his share of close calls. I paused a moment to remember my first conscious battle with mortality but it had been so long in the past, I couldn't be sure if the impartial feelings I now associated with it were from that time, or my desensitization to it. Either way, I thought I could help him, if he let me.

A not so sudden silence caused me to focus back on my companions, and both were staring at me; Barton with an inscrutable look, and Duo with a concern expression - a question in his eyes. Looking from one to the other, I realized I'd missed responding to a question or comment. Quickly I replayed the last minutes of conversation and pulled out the answer.

"From his mother-in-law." 

"That makes sense then," Barton said nodding. He turned back to Duo and added, "I'd heard the lady died the same year I bought my place. I never had the chance to meet her, but from what I understand, she was a character." Duo was grinning, enjoying the story my neighbor relayed.

"She was until her daughter was killed." For some reason, I felt I had to join the conversation, to make up for my lack earlier.

Barton looked back at me in surprise. "You knew Mrs. Long then?" I nodded shortly and stood; I wanted lunch to be over with, I felt the need to be in silence again. "I had tried to purchase this place, but her son-in-law wouldn't sell. Do you know him as well?"

I hesitated in gathering the bowls and utensils and, without looking at either of them, I nodded again saying, "Chang Wufei and I worked together. He is my friend and gave me the use of this farm." 

"What do you farm?" Duo asked suddenly.

"I do not farm." I poured more tea, and brought out the stash of cookies I'd baked earlier in the week. 

Apparently Duo had asked my neighbor the same question, for his response was the same. Duo had given him a look, partly bewildered and partly frustrated, prompting Barton to add, "Most of the land in these parts of South Dakota are own by larger farming corporations. There are very few family or independent farms left, not only here, but in other agriculture areas of the country."

Duo nodded, his expression clearing. "So, let me get this straight. You both live on farms, fairly large ones at that, and neither of you farm? Why do you live here then?"

"Solitude," I said as Barton replied at the same time, "Beauty." We looked at each other and he gave me a slight smile.

"Well, beautiful solitude I can buy," Duo chuckled picking up another cookie and breaking it into pieces before launching into a question directed at the tall man and his quest for beauty. 

As they continued to speak, I rose and went to the window. The need to distance myself from them, cocoon myself in silence was becoming overwhelming. The fact I knew neither man well, despite what their intentions toward me seemed to be, coupled with the encroachment on my isolation after enforcing it for many months, made me anxious, nervous and near to losing my control. I held the curtain aside, peering out into the cold white landscape and for a moment longed to be lost in it, longed to wrap myself in its silence.

"It's beginning to snow again," I announced to the room at large.

"Does it ever stop?" Duo nearly whined. 

"I need to leave," Barton said standing up. "I was planning to head to town and stay there tonight. I can take Duo along with me..." he trailed off as Duo shook his head.

"I'll be okay here for another day, I think." 

I looked at him from across the room, wondering why he'd choose to stay at the farmhouse with me rather than go to town with the more than talkative Barton, and more modernized accommodations. I knew I was frowning, trying to answer the puzzle before me, and watched Duo smile as though he knew what effect he had on me. 

"If the snow stops without dropping significant amounts, the roads should be cleared tomorrow or possibly Friday," Barton told Duo. "I'll verify the reports and get a road condition update while in town and stopped back by tomorrow, then."

Duo nodded. "That'd be great, man. Thanks for helping out." They both had started for the kitchen door, when Duo stopped. "Hey, could I ask you to do me a favor while you're in town? If the phone works there that is." The tall man nodded for him to continue. "Would you call a friend of mine, let him know everything's all right and where I'm at? And tell him I'll call him as soon as the lines out here are up and running?" He was already writing on the pad I kept on the counter to organize my lists.

"Sure, I can do that. Anything else?" Barton looked to me, and I shook my head. I had stocked up on supplies two days before Duo crashed knowing the weather was supposed to get bad. "I can hear your generator, so you don't need any fuel?" I glared at him. He had been the one to help me with my prior run in with the generator. 

"There's enough fuel if the electricity is restored by Saturday. If not, I'll make a run to town in the Polaris."

"Suit yourself," he said, door open and ready to leave. Duo was at his side, pulling his coat back on, and I followed reluctantly. 

We stood in the cold, listening to the SnowCat's engine fade into the distance and the light snow dusting our clothing. I reveled in the silence; the winter white of the snow wrapping itself around me, muffling sound and releasing most of my anxiety.

"Do you know what he does for a living?" Duo's voice was oddly quiet. I opened my eyes to peer at him. He stood waiting for my response; apparently it hadn't been a rhetorical question. 

"I've never asked."

He frowned and turned toward the house, brushing the snow from his coat as he went. His hand on the door knob, he threw out, "I wonder if he's T Barton, the artist. The way he spoke of the beauty in this region makes me think so." I was standing next to him now, and ready to return to the warmth. Duo had a contemplative look on his face and a slow smile formed. "Quatre's going to shoot me if he is. T Barton is one of Quat's favorite artist." An amused light danced in his eyes as he entered the porch with me on his heels.

After we'd finished with cleaning up the kitchen, and I set items out for dinner, Duo headed for the couch and his book. I prowled around the livingroom from window to window, staring out into the day for several minutes, only to turn from the frozen landscape and seek another. I was unaccountably restless, prowling as I was, with no reason I could fathom behind it.

"Heero, enough all ready! I'm getting dizzy watching you walk circles on the floor," Duo complained.

I stopped mid-step and looked at him. I had thought he had been reading, lost in his obvious interest in the book, but it lay on the couch next to him; he had clearly been watching me. Flushing, I threw myself into a chair and flipped through an old magazine, not reading the words and barely registering the pictures. 

"What's going on, Heero?" Duo had leaned forward and placed a hand on the magazine. "You're acting as if you're ready to take someone apart, and I'm rather hoping it isn't me."

More than a little shocked, I stared at him. "I-I wouldn't hurt you..." I sputtered. 

He laughed and reminded me how I enjoyed hearing him. "I don't think I'd give you the chance. But that doesn't change the fact you're not acting your usual self."

"How would you know that? I could have not been acting my usual self up until now, and you wouldn't have known," I questioned him peevishly. Not sure why I was being irritable to him, but I didn't want to delve into my restless mood and the reason behind it.

Leaning back, a slight smile on his face, Duo answered, "I wouldn't, but be honest, you're not really like this, are you?"

Bastard. I wouldn't lie to him. Dropping my gaze to stare at an innocuous photo ad, I gave a negative shake not wanting to admit he was correct out loud. In trying to reason my way through the muddled thoughts in my head, I scowled and asked instead, "Why didn't you leave with Barton?" 

Duo didn't answer right away and I risked a glance at him. He wasn't looking at me any longer, but sat still, watching the flames dance in the fireplace with his eyes unfocused. Softly, as though he was speaking to himself, he said, "I thought there are some ...things we needed to discuss. To find out," He brought his gaze back to me. "And discover about ourselves."

Staring, I opened my mouth and nothing would come out; no sound could make its way around the lump lodged in my throat. Instead, I shut the magazine and put it away. A vortex of sound, light and memories swirled in my mind and the need to be on my own threatened to overpower me. I gasped and gripped the arms of the chair, trying to keep myself from launching into another circuit of the room.

"Heero," he was speaking, drawing my attention into a narrow focus. I turned to him, my expression troubled and lost. "We don't have to talk about anything now. We don't have to do anything, say anything... but I didn't want to leave. Not until you tell me why I ... well, why there is this connection between us." 

Lost in his gaze, I could only nod. "I need some time," I whispered. "I can't think." He nodded. 

"It is all right if I stay, isn't it? I don't want to push you or intrude, but I don't want to lose... well, I don't even know what yet."

This time, I smiled reassuringly at him. "I'd like that. I'd like you to stay." A comfortable quiet settled between us, and I sat back, letting my eyes close, letting the maelstrom die away. I still had unanswered questions and unknown reasoning, but for now I knew that they could wait, I had time.

"When do you plan on going back to ... what you did before you moved here?" Duo asked, carefully skirting around haunting memories.

He was laying on the bed in the second bedroom, fresh from the shower and ready for sleep. Dressed in a pair of boxers, he seemed relaxed and comfortable; I had to concentrate on what I was doing to keep from giving him more than an impartial look. I was applying ointment to his knee and bruises; though he hadn't given in to the pain all day, he finally admitted to how sore he was, how his muscles had seized up on him in protest. After his shower, I'd offered a massage, and while he had hesitated, he finally declined; more for my benefit than his, I think. 

I paused in rubbing the ointment on his knee, and gave his question some thought. "I don't think I'll be going back. Not to what I was, who I was." 

Duo was silent for a moment and then stated, "I've been giving some thought to sitting this year out, putting racing on hold for now." I looked up from my task, disturbed. "With the way I've been thinking... feeling, I think it would be best if I didn't rush out to test Fate." He smiled at me. "No matter how professional I am, if I'm not focused entirely on what I'm doing and confident a hundred percent in my driving abilities, what I believe will happen, will." I nodded at his reasoning, more pleased than I could say.

Noticing his fingers tracing along the stitches in his brow, I asked, "Do you need more salve? Are they bothering you?"

"They itch, but if you've got more, I'd appreciate it," he answered grinning ruefully and dropped his hand to his side. 

Finished with his knee, I stood. "I'll go get the salve before starting on those," I indicated the mottled purple, blue and yellowing bruises on his bare chest. In the bathroom, I used the time to my advantage, trying to calm my wildly beating heart, and center my scrambled thoughts to only the clinical aspect of my care. 

Minutes later, I sat by his side and leaned forward to apply the salve. The sutures were clean, and the wound appeared free from infection and irritation. I smiled slightly thinking that if we continued to care for the injury as we were currently, he wouldn't have the scar he had considered.

"You have a nice smile," he whispered, his words a breath against my wrist.

Lowering my gaze, I realized he'd been watching my face as I applied the salve. His lids were half-lowered, a smoldering look shone bright in his eyes. Seeing that I now watched him, he licked his lower lip and sucked it into his mouth, biting on it. For a moment I wondered if it had been a deliberate act, but seeing the stuttering breath he took, I knew it hadn't. 

My kissing him had been the furthest thought on my mind; his show of vulnerability compelled me to display a little of my own. 

The jar of salve hit the floor, bringing me to the present in a rush. He was in my arms, his head nestled to the crook of my neck. I don't remember pulling him to me, or him wrapping his arms around me, but for the moment, it didn't matter. I was trembling and he murmured nonsense words against my skin.

Warmth surrounded me, and I closed my eyes letting it seep into my heart, driving the cold of my solitude back. 

"Stay with me," I whispered into his hair. Uncertain of what he meant to me, what he wanted from me, I only wanted the moment to be and the chance for more.

Nodding, his answer was muffled. "I don't want to be anywhere else."

~****

Note: SnowCat is a specialized vehicle I made up. I looked all over for it on-line, but couldn't find exactly what I was looking for. I know it exists, I've seen one! It's mainly used in arctic like conditions to travel over frozen tundra. Visualize a big Caterpillar tractor - similar to a harvester - with a large cabin. Something like that. 


	5. Epilogue

****

Solitude in White 

by Merith

Pairings: 1+2   
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, language, angst, mild Heero OOC

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

A/N: A little something I threw together to try and enter into a blanket fic contest, but I didn't finish it in time. Ah well, such is life, and deadlines are deadlines. In actually, I didn't really start to write this story to enter the contest as much as to prove a point - a blanket fic can be written without resorting to making your characters have wild monkey sex in the cold - though that can be fun as well! And though you will find some pretty sensual stuff in here, it's all fairly clean.

Thanks and all that: Of course this wouldn't have been possible with the help of my friend Alba - Thanks hon, I wooove you! And a very special thanks to Arithion for the last minute beta and suggestions. Also, a nudge to CaseyValhalla, Saro, and Mereilla for letting me bounce a couple of things off them.

~

Epilogue:

At the end of the row I stopped to lean on my hoe, and wiped my brow. I looked over what I'd been working on all morning and felt a pleasing sense of satisfaction. Having never grown anything before, and regularly killing houseplants, I'd always avoided taking care of living things until this past spring. And now, I tended near half an acre of vegetables and fruits.

My four rows of corns were tall, healthy and straight with their tassels browned, hinting at the ripening corn inside. The peas and snap beans climbed wildly up their threaded trellises, already having provided many meals worth of nourishment. The carrots, tomatoes, beets, melons, squash, lettuce and radishes grew in abandon, thick and rich in color and taste. 

I looked up to the late August sky, wishing for clouds, wishing for a little rain to end the oppressive humidity and heat. Wiping my brow again, I walked back to the wooden split rail fence separating the barn's open yard from the garden. A bottle of water I'd previously frozen melted nicely, leaving me with a cool drink. I'd swallowed nearly half of the water when I spotted him.

A young cottontail rabbit crouched half hidden amongst the melon and squash leaves, using their cover to stay out of the sun. He was nibbling on my lettuce. From where I stood, the distance between him and I was far enough he couldn't see or smell me; I watched as he shifted to reach another leaf. His covert boldness led me to think of Duo, and I snorted softly at how indignant the man would have been to hear that analogy. 

As if he knew I was thinking of him, I heard a string of curses from across the yard where he was currently working in the barn. The rabbit paused and raised his head to listen just as I was. No words could be distinguished, but over the past few months I'd gotten used to hearing the man's muttered cussing and mild rants. His car, that Dodge Challenger he'd wrecked over the winter, had taken up residence in the recently refurbished barn, and every few days a new part or specialized tool would arrive by UPS or Parcel Post in Duo's pursuit to repair its damage.

Instead of having the car shipped back to North Carolina, Duo had it brought to the barn where it sat until the temperatures were warm enough to tolerate without a parka. He had traveled to his home several times returning with tools, parts catalogs, and more personal items to store in the second bedroom. I smiled at that; we'd been lovers for a couple of months, and always slept together now. But, we both agreed he needed a place to keep his things, and a place he could go to be on his own.

We'd talked a few times about him going home to begin racing again. If he started soon, he'd have a chance to qualify for next year's big races. He says he needed more time, but I've seen him out on the speedway and the fair grounds: racing against the locals, talking shop, lending a hand in fixing the cars. The world of motor oil, the smell of high-octane fuel, the burning rubber of tires and the roar of powerful engines belonged to Duo. He was stagnating on this farm.

Duo's friend, Quatre, had made more than a few trips up, usually staying for two or three days. The brilliant young man seemed to find peace and rest here. After the first awkward visit, the man and I came to terms with the tragedy we shared and the guilt that haunted us differently. He knew I harbored no ill will for him and had never believed he was negligent in not ensuring enough security was available for that fateful outing. Though he would wish it otherwise, he respected my need for privacy and stopped seeking to honor me publicly for my actions. 

Another rabbit had joined the first, and after sniffing noses, it moved on beyond its companion. The second cottontail had a penchant for carrot toppings rather than lettuce leaf. Since I'd watered the night before, the ground still held the moisture, and under the broad melon leaves, it should have been several degrees cooler. Contemplating the wandering rabbit's actions, I couldn't help but think it was reckless to its danger. Was the taste of carrot greens worth leaving hiding, feeling the heat of the sun and the risk of getting caught? 

Faintly, I felt a cold touch echo from my long ago solitude. My quest for isolation and reclusion had ended one frigid night of winter, and though there are times the need to be alone drives me, forcing me to find a quiet, secluded place, the thought of returning to who I had been never crosses my mind. My heart is warm now, content. I smiled a little as the wandering brown rabbit hopped farther out into the open, reaching for the tops of the carrot greens.

Wufei had flown out for a short visit nearly a month ago. Though we spoke on the phone and exchanged emails on nearly a daily basis, he told me he had to make a personal appearance if only to meet the man who was crazy enough to endure me for longer than a week. I will admit, I did worry my two best friends wouldn't care for each other. I should have known better; Duo was charm personified, and Wufei saw what I did in him. 

As it turned out, his visit wasn't just to check up on me or to meet Duo. He wanted me to come back to work. Once upon a time Wufei had been the closest to being my partner as you could get in the Secret Service. If I were to return to Washington, I would report to him as my boss. I had told him I'd think about it, but dismissed it from my mind as soon as his rental disappeared down the drive. When I first sought out the solitude of the farm, I had always known the day would come when he would want me back. Though I'd never return to personal protection, I had begun thinking about working again.

My Internet search last week showed openings for agents in the Raleigh branch of the FBI. 

"Hey, Farmer Yuy!" Duo called out from the barn's doorway. Both rabbits froze where they were, but sensing no immediate danger, they went back to their meal. I felt his presence as he leaned against the other side of the fence, one hand snaking over my shoulder to snatch my water bottle. I'd forgotten I was holding it. I turned my head to watch as he drank deeply, finishing off the last of the water. Grinning at me, he asked quietly, "What's got your attention so completely?"

I smiled in return and pointed out the cottontails with my chin. "Rabbits."

His look was incredulous. "They're going to destroy your garden."

__

Not hardly, I'd thought. "These two will only eat a little." 

"Until they tell their friends about a pushover farmer with lots of great eats," he laughed.

"Let them. I'll grow more." I returned my gaze back to the cottontails, but divided my attention between them and Duo. 

We watched the rabbits for a moment more in silence. Duo leaned forward bringing his head to his hand to wipe his brow, and with his movement his braid swung over the fence, landing with a soft thump against my chest. I picked up its end and held it up to look at the green ribbon tying it off before tossing it back at him, smiling at his grin. 

"Oh yeah, I spoke to Quatre this morning." At my nod, he continued. "Seems like he's found a place, off Spring Hollow Road?"

I thought for a moment, placing the spot. "Up highway fourteen about a mile and a half. Probably the Warner farm." I gave him a significant look. "It's the other side of Barton's fields."

"Ah!" Duo exclaimed and laughed loudly, startling the rabbits into a run. "I think Quatre's had his eye on something other than a new hangout." 

With Duo's exuberance and tendency for pranks and jokes, I didn't envy Quatre's position. I rocked my shoulder into his arm. "Go easy on him. He needs your support more than ever, you know."

Barely touching my arm, he said, "Oh I will. I have some idea of what he's giving up." He smiled softly, his eyes held a special light he rarely shows. "And I have some idea of what he's gaining." 

To say I was speechless would be an accurate statement. His little proclamation had been the closest he'd come to admitting what his emotions for me were. I hadn't even come that far, and the most I could do was stare at him in astonishment.

He was leaning over the fence with his elbows on the top rail, his shoulder brushing against mine. His right cheek was smudged with dust blended with dried grease as though he'd scratched an itch there. Without leaning closer, his smell teased me. The mixture all his own of sweat, dust, grease, and motor oil with the hint of his shampoo wafting throughout. The bangs of his hair were slick and matted, and I noticed he had his shirt off, one end partly tucked into his jeans' back pocket. His bare chest shone with a fine sheen of perspiration, muted with an even finer layer of dust. 

I licked my lips.

Duo caught my movement and smirked. Reaching out a finger, he caught a rolling drop of sweat from the back of my neck and rubbed at it. "We need a pool," he announced almost absently. 

The touch of his finger caused me to shiver reflexively. "Why?" 

"To swim, to cool down, and to wash off this sweat." He had caught another drop making its way along the side of my face. 

Turning quickly, I placed my hands on the top rail, and shoved off the ground with my feet, launching myself cleanly over the fence to land on the other side.

"Show off," Duo muttered with a grin.

I grinned back and began walking toward the house. "A pool would significantly lower the water table," I told him over my shoulder.

Trotting after me, he merely grunted. "Well then, can we go to Iowa some time next week?"

That stopped me. "Iowa? What's in Iowa?"

"Corn," he answered guilelessly. 

Making a rude noise, I scowled at him. "Duo, there's corn here too. What's so special about Iowa corn?"

"'Cause the Field of Dreams corn is only in Iowa," he stated with a nod.

For a moment I wondered if he'd been working out in the heat too long. "I didn't know you were a baseball fan."

"I'm not, but I am a Costner fan, and woo-ie! The chance to sit where his butt sat! Yeah, I'd make the trip to Iowa!" He was grinning at me, a teasing light in his eyes. There were times I wondered if that crash had rattled something loose.

Not responding to his off sense of humor, I continued towards the house.

"Hey Heero, where are we going?" Duo asked, stepping over the re-seeded brown spot on the lawn.

"The house," I answered.

"Ah, okay then." He peered over at me, wiping at his brow. "How 'bout we dig a lake and I have the water imported?" 

I had to laugh. "I don't think so, Duo. Wufei would kill us if we dug up the yard."

"Well, how are we suppose to cool down and get rid of this sweat?" he asked sounding petulant. 

"That's what a shower is for," I answered coolly, watching him from the corner of my eyes. He'd brightened considerably.

We were almost to the back door when he spoke again. "You know, we really should buy this place from Wufei. There's a lot of things I could to do fix it up, like get a better generator, and remodel the barn - turn it into a real working garage. And the house, well there're a lot of things we can do with the house to make it better. More comfortable to live in."

I smiled softly and reached for his hand as I held open the door. "No, I don't think we'll be buying this place."

Duo looked from our interlocked fingers to my face, his expression puzzled. "Why? I thought you liked it here?"

Pulling him inside, I brushed a kiss on his lips before I answered, "Because I have a feeling we won't be living here long."

~

Special note: The love of Duo's life, his "Deathscythe" is the 1970 Dodge Challenger as pictured here: Since I'm not the car enthusiast it might appear from this story, the car idea and his profession came from my friend Alba and her husband, Hans. Alba is a car enthusiast, and found the perfect car for Duo in this story. 


End file.
